Marry You
by Dorothea Greengrass
Summary: Harry and Daphne find themseves trapped in a hasty marriage after a drunken night, and there is no way out. How will they cope with that? Warnings: underage drinking, probably a lemon or two, and Weasley bashing. Also, English is not my first language, so be prepared for strange language quirks or don't read. Chapter 3 partly rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **MY**

Author's Notes: This story was inspired by the Bruno Mars song "Marry You". While I know this song has been used for proposals, I always thought it was an excellent advertisement jingle for any lawyer dealing in family law. Well, Muggles have the easy way out, they get divorced. But I didn't want to give Harry and Daphne the easy option. So, how do you cope when you have the choice between two evils: murder your spouse or live with him/her?

 **MY**

It was a rather cold summer night at the end of June and the pubs just began to fill. A young man with raven coloured hair walked down Leicester Square, looking for a place to eat.

He stopped at a pub with the cryptic name "The Needy Kumquat" and hesitated for a moment. As a wave of laughter spilled out from the pub onto the street, he made up his mind, opened the door and stepped inside.

As soon as he had crossed the threshold, he stopped dead in his tracks. Matching the name of the pub, the interior was decorated in different shades of orange. The young man closed his eyes.

' _That looks like the headquarters of the Chudley Cannons_ ' he thought to himself. He was just about to turn around and leave the pub, when a delicious smell wafting from the kitchen reached his nose and made him reconsider. He went to the bar and ordered a pint of bitter. With the glass in his hand he looked around. It was still early in the evening, and the pub was not yet crowded. He carried his glass to an empty table in a corner and sat down.

Sipping his bitter, he had a look at the other patrons. Only half of the tables were occupied. The most noise and rambunctious laughter came from a large group of young adults in their mid-twenties that had put several tables together. The other tables were mostly taken by couples, who seemed to enjoy themselves.

The young man sighed inwardly. Not so long ago he had been part of such a happy couple. But that was water under the bridge. Ginny had made perfectly clear that she wasn't interested in spending her time in reclusiveness, like he would have preferred, given his prominent status in their world. She wanted to go out and party and forget all about the war they had fought and the losses they had suffered. She called it returning back to life, he called her attitude callous. One word lead to another, and in the end they had broken up. That had been this morning.

Angry words at the table next to him startled him out of his morose thoughts.

'Get your hands off of me, you moron. You're drunk!' a female voice hissed.

'Oh, come on, honey, don't be so prude! You know that you want it!' her companion slurred.

The young man turned around on his chair. At the table next to him a large man had put his hairy arm around the shoulder of a blonde young woman and was just trying to nibble her ear. The woman shuddered. By her stiff posture the young man could tell it wasn't out of pleasure, though the monkey who pulled her even closer to him apparently thought so. The young woman tried to get away from him, but the man held her tight with his ape-like arms.

The young man decided he had seen and heard enough. His friend Hermione would probably say it was because of his saving-people-thing again and be very displeased with him, but for him it was simply a matter of the right thing to do. _'Confundus_!' he thought.

The monkey let go off of the young woman. He rose from his chair and stumbled out of the pub, a confused expression on his face.

The young woman watched him leaving with a puzzled frown.

There was something oddly familiar about her, the young man thought. Then it hit him. 'Greengrass!' he exclaimed.

The head of the young woman whipped around. Her eyes grew wide as she recognised him. 'Potter? What are you doing here?' she asked.

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. 'I could ask you the same. This is not exactly the place where I imagined to hit upon Slytherin's Pureblood princess and reigning Ice Queen Daphne Greengrass.'

She looked around. 'Mind your words, Potter! This pub is full of Muggles!' she hissed.

'Don't worry, I've set up Privacy Wards and Anti-Listening-Wards,' he grinned.

By the look in her eyes he could tell that she didn't believe him. 'Wordlessly?' she asked. Her voice sounded sceptical.

'And wandlessly,' he supplied.

She still looked sceptical. 'You never were that good while we were at school.'

He laughed at that. 'Greengrass, we didn't run in the same circles at school, so you won't know what I can or can't do. Also, I used to hold back. But most important, being on the run for your life for a year and finishing off a megalomaniac monster does help a lot to hone your skills, I can tell you.'

She picked up the glass of wine in front of her, rose from her table and sat down opposite of him. 'All right, Potter, don't you think this impromptu school reunion is the perfect opportunity to catch up between old school mates?'

He had picked up his glass again and now snorted into his bitter. 'Greengrass, we never were that chummy at school that I'd tell you what's going on in my life. Next I'll know is that you'd have run off with that information to Skeeter and I'll find another article full of lies about me printed in the _Prophet_. Or, even worse, you'd tell your little Wannabe-Death Eater chums. I bet they'll be happy about any information they can get to get back at me. I've been told they are still vexed with me because I finished off their bigwig.'

He took a gulp and put down his glass, giving her a long, hard stare with his emerald green eyes. 'Aren't you betrothed to Nott? He's one of the worst and I bet he'd be delighted if his sweetheart tells him some news about me.'

Her face had gone very red at his words, and she reciprocated his stare with an equally hard one from her almost violet blue eyes. 'For your information, Potter, I was betrothed to Nott's older brother. He was a Death Eater and an arsehole and thankfully was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. After the battle, Nott, now head of his house, approached my father to set up a similar betrothal contract between him and me. Since I am of age, my father couldn't do that without my consent. But apparently the Notts had dirt on my father, and they pressured him. In return, my family pressured me to sign the contract. I finally had enough and ran away four weeks ago.' Her voice sounded bitter.

Harry searched her face for any sign of duplicity, but couldn't find it, neither in her expression nor in her posture. His gut told him she had been honest. 'I'm sorry, Greengrass. I didn't know that.'

'It's all right, Potter. Like you said, we weren't that chummy at school, so you wouldn't know.' She drained her glass in one gulp and put it back on the table.

Harry stood up and went to the bar. A few minutes later he returned, carrying a glass of wine and another pint of bitter. He put the wine down in front of her.

'Thanks,' Greengrass said.

'You're welcome,' he replied automatically and sat down. 'So, you've practically been hiding among Muggles for the last month? You're doing a pretty good job, I'd say. I'm impressed; I'd never have thought a Pureblood is able to fit in that seamlessly.' He gestured at her outfit with his hand.

She was dressed for dancing on a Saturday night. She wore a tight black and white patterned dress that left her shoulders bare, and matching black high heels. The very short skirt of the dress and the high heels made her legs look endlessly, Harry noticed with a dry gulp. Her thick mane of honey-coloured blonde hair streamed down her back in slight curls until it almost reached her hips, seemingly untamed. She was a beauty; that was evident. He'd always known her as one of the prettiest girls at school. However, he had had no idea of the perfectly sculptured body that had been hidden under the thick school robes.

She gave him a wry grin over the rim of her glass. 'That's not as difficult as it may seem to most Purebloods,' she replied. She took a sip and put the glass down. 'Very few people know that my best friend Tracey Davis was a Muggleborn.'

'Was?' he interrupted her.

Her face turned into a stony mask and her eyes became very dark.

Harry had seen something like that happening over and over again when he visited the families of the fallen after the Battle of Hogwarts, so her next words were no surprise to him.

'Tracey and her family were killed by Death Eaters during the Easter Holidays this year.'

'I'm sorry. I had no idea she was Muggleborn.'

'It was a close kept secret between Tracey and me. We met on the Hogwarts Express before our first year, and instantly became friends. She told me that she was Muggleborn, and I warned her of the repercussions because of that from a certain house. During the train ride we made up a background story for Tracey being from a Squib line, and it worked. At least, until our last year.' She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.

'Tracey's parents always invited me to their home during the summer holidays. My father never cared what I was doing, since I was only a girl and not the heir he'd wished for. My mother was busy socialising and also left me to my own devices. They both never found out that Tracey was a Muggleborn. They just assumed she came from a magical family, because that's what I'd told them and they'd never have imagined that I'll be friends with a Muggleborn.' She grinned at her last words, though there was no humour in that grin.

'During the summers spent at Tracey's home I learned a lot about Muggle culture, especially how to dress like a Muggle. Of course, it helped a lot that Tracey and I both were interested in fashion. But I also learned how to blend in. So, when I ran away from home I had no problems to rent a room in a small flat and find work.'

Her companion raised his eyebrows. 'I'm impressed, Greengrass. What are you doing, if I may ask?'

She smiled. 'You may. I work as a sales assistant on King's Road during the day. I plan on attending evening school to obtain my GCSE in coming September. I want to study fashion design one day.'

His eyebrows went even higher. 'Now I'm really impressed. It can't be easy, given your background.'

'I am a fast learner. However, even though I learned a lot about Muggle culture from the Davis', I lack knowledge and experience in many areas. I was able to blame that on a strict and secluded upbringing by parents who are members of an obscure sect.'

He laughed at that. 'Good move, Greengrass! I'd never have thought you are that ambitious.'

'I'm a Slytherin. I come from the house of the ambitious and cunning,' she reminded him over the rim of her glass and took another sip.

'True,' he admitted. 'Though, most of your housemates were anything but that!'

She made a face. 'To be honest, I always thought they gave Slytherin a bad name. We're supposed to be the house of the cunning, but they followed a megalomaniac madman like any good, little Hufflepuff!'

Harry choked at his bitter. 'Well, I'd never thought of that!' he exclaimed. 'I always thought they are perfect examples of Slytherins, given their love of power.'

'Love of power is only one facet of being a Slytherin,' she contradicted him and took another sip of her wine. 'Also, there are many other forms of power besides raw force that true Slytherins like to obtain. There's the power of knowledge, or the power of money, or even the power of love.' She let her last words trail off.

'The latter is what finished him off in the end,' Harry said quietly.

She started. 'That's what you said to him during your final confrontation in the Great Hall. Something about the love of your mother protecting you and the love Professor Snape had all lifelong for your mother driving him on to fight the monster.'

'You were there?' Harry thought he couldn't believe his ears.

Greengrass lowered her eyes onto the table and fidgeted with the glass in her hands, obviously feeling uncomfortable at the disbelief in his voice. 'Yes, I was. When you and your friends turned up in the Great Hall and Professor McGonagall evacuated the castle, I made sure my younger sister left with her year and then ducked away from my class and joined the defenders of Hogwarts.'

He still stared at her. 'Now, that's surprising. I'd never have expected that! What made you do it?'

She shifted in her seat. 'I was feeling miserable after Tracey's death. Numb and angry at the same time, if that's possible. When you turned up at Hogwarts that night, I suddenly knew that I had to make a decision. The time to stick my head in the sand like an ostrich had come to an end. I couldn't sit back in the side-lines like a good Slytherin anymore and wait for the outcome. I wanted to revenge Tracey, and I wanted to get rid of that monster, so I had to pick a side.' Again, she drained her glass in one gulp.

'I'd never have thought you had it in you,' Harry remarked and also drained his glass.

She gave a harsh laugh. 'I didn't know I had it in me until I found myself with my wand in my hand, fighting for my life.'

He didn't reply, but stood up, gathered their glasses and went to the bar to get the next round. His head spun. Greengrass just effectively turned all his believes of Slytherins upside down.

She took her glass from him with a smile of thanks when he returned to the table. 'Aren't you still seventeen, Potter? How did you manage to persuade the barkeeper to let you buy alcohol?'

'Silent and wandless _Confundus Charm_ ,' Harry replied with a lopsided grin. 'Made him forget to ask me for my ID.'

'How Slytherin of you,' she remarked and raised her glass in a silent toast. 'But then, with the way you always tended to melt into the background I've often thought you behaved more like a Slytherin than like a brassy Gryffindor.'

He had returned her toast, but now put down his glass. 'Funny you'd say that. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin.'

'No way!' Greengrass gaped.

'Yep!' he confirmed, grinning at her amazement.

The silence between them stretched until Greengrass shook her head. 'Who'd have thought that! But maybe I shouldn't be that surprised. You're a Parselmouth, after all.'

'Was,' he corrected her calmly. 'I lost that ability when I overcame Riddle.'

She looked as if she wanted to investigate that bit of information deeper, but then thought the better of it. Instead, she changed the topic.

'Now that I've told you the boring details of my average life since the battle, care to tell me what you've done during the last two months, Potter?'

'Oh, I'd never call you average, Greengrass,' he winked before he took another sip of bitter. 'It's certainly not the norm for a Pureblood to run away from her family and try to make her way in the Muggle world.'

He put his empty glass on the table. 'The last two months have thankfully been calm. Of course, there first were the many funerals. It seemed as if they would never end.' The last sentence he spoke to himself, his head hung low.

She waited patiently until he was ready to continue, and finally was rewarded when he raised his head and gave her another lopsided smile.

'Besides that, I haven't done much more than sleeping, eating and occasionally snogging my girlfriend when her brothers weren't around pestering us. But that's over now. I ended it today. Unfortunately, I lived at her house since the battle, so I had to leave there and take up residence in my own place. It's a house my godfather left me, full of dark magic and a veritable dung heap after years of neglect. That's why I came here tonight. I wanted to grab some pub grub and a couple of pints and probably get pissed while doing so.'

Greengrass snorted at that. 'Mind if I join you? My arsehole of a date left me. He was my first try at dating like a Muggle, and my bad luck would have it that I picked a real looser. Right now I feel like having a pity party. It's more fun to get drunk if you have someone to commiserate.'

'You're welcome,' he chuckled and raised his glass to her. 'Here's to a successful night of getting pissed together!'

 **MY**

Harry woke up with a groan. His head pounded as if a Hippogriff had danced on it, and his stomach felt like if it was on fire. One of the four bitters and many shots he had had last night must have been off. Laying on his side with closed eyes, he tried to get his bearings. Judging by the noises he heard from outside and the brightness behind his eyelids, it was already in the middle of the morning. The faint mouldy smell that filled his nostrils and almost made him gag told him that he was in Sirius' old room at Grimmauld Place. Merlin, how he hated that place! But he had nowhere else to go, so he had better make the best of it.

What puzzled him was the warm, soft mass that clung onto him. His hand cupped something soft and round that felt simply divine. Something silky tickled his nose, and he barely kept from sneezing, knowing that his pounding head would take badly to that. But that silky substance smelled heavenly of citrus and lavender, efficiently overlapping the smell of mould that permeated Grimmauld Place, and he buried his nose in it, revelling the pleasant smell that reminded him of sunshine and laughter.

However, his bladder told him that it was time to get up. He opened his eyes for a slit, painfully aware of the sunshine that even the decades-old grime on the windows couldn't prevent from pouring into the room. His eyes fell on a honey-blonde head, buried in his chest. Lowering his gaze deeper, he noticed that his left hand cupped a perfectly shaped rosy breast. Nice, he thought in his sleepy state. Then it hit him that he was as naked as the girl beside him.

He let out a shriek and shot bolt upright.

The girl beside him started and let out a groan. 'Not so loud!' she moaned, while she took her head in both of her hands.

CRACK!

Kreacher Apparated into the bedroom, and the girl beside him let out another pitiful moan.

'Master and mistress need to take this,' he said, much louder and more cheerful than Harry liked, and held out two potion phials to him.

Harry accepted the phials with a nod of thanks, which set the hammers in his head off to work again, and then turned to the girl by his side. Now he recognised her.

'Greengrass? What are you doing in my bed?' he asked.

'I'm dying,' Greengrass moaned, still clinging her hands to her head.

'Not in my bed, Greengrass,' Harry said firmly. 'You'd better take this!' He held the potion phial out to her.

Greengrass opened her eyes for a slit. Then her eyes got wide. 'Potter?' she gasped and sat up, which elicited another groan of pain.

He shoved the phial into her hands. 'Bottoms up!' he said and emptied his phial.

Greengrass followed suit.

The relief was instant, and Harry was able to get out of bed and take care of his most pressing needs.

He was thankful to find Sirius' old bathrobe in the bathroom, and though it smelled as mouldy as the rest of the house, he pulled it over his thin frame when he returned into the bedroom.

Greengrass was lying on her back, her eyes closed.

'Still not feeling better?' Harry asked.

'I'm trying to remember how I got here,' she replied.

Harry started. She had raised a valid point. He also had no idea how she got there. He sat down on the edge of his bed. 'Last thing I remember is going out to grab something to eat. Kreacher and I had worked hard all day long to get the kitchen and this bedroom into order, and I didn't want him to have to cook for me.'

'I think I had a date last night. Some guy named Don, at least I think so. He was drunk, and I told him to leave me alone.' She opened her eyes and sat up. 'You made him go away!' she gasped.

'Did I?' Harry asked, carefully avoiding to look at her bare chest. Then his memory came back. 'You came over to my table after that and we talked.'

'Yes, and we had dinner together and a couple of shots after that,' Greengrass supplied.

'A few more than a couple,' Harry remembered. 'We were both plastered when we left that pub. But I still can't remember how we ended here.' He blanched. 'I hope I wasn't as reckless as to Apparate us here, given the state I was in.'

'No, no, now I remember. You called your house elf!' Greengrass exclaimed.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. 'Did I? Well, at least he'll be able to tell us what happened after that.'

'That should be pretty obvious, given how we woke up together,' Greengrass said and blushed.

Harry also blushed. 'Yeah, probably. But I'd like to be certain. Kreacher!'

The ancient house elf popped into the room with another CRACK that made the two young adults wince, in spite of the Hangover Potion they had had.

'What can Kreacher do for master and mistress?'

'Kreacher, what happened after I called you to the pub last night?' Harry asked.

'Master asked Kreacher to Side-Along-Apparate him and mistress to Gretna Green.'

'What by Merlin's beard did we want to do in Gretna Green?' Harry asked, but Greengrass blanched at the house elf's words.

'Oh no, don't tell me that we were that stupid!' she exclaimed.

Kreacher turned around to her. 'Master and mistress wanted to shag, but mistress kept saying that she didn't want to shag without being married first. So master went down on his knees and proposed. Mistress accepted and then told master to tell Kreacher to take both of them to Gretna Green so that they could get married immediately, because mistress said she wants to shag master until he was cross-eyed. Kreacher is a good house elf and did what his master told him. Master and mistress were married over the anvil of the blacksmith, with the blacksmith and his wife as witnesses. Kreacher has never seen such a bright aura as in the moment master and mistress exchanged their vows.'

Greengrass face went even paler. 'And what happened then?'

'Master conjured rings for master and mistress.' He pointed at their hands.

The young couple looked down at their fingers. Indeed, a shiny golden ring adorned the ring finger of each of their left hands. They exchanged a look of horror.

'And next?' Greengrass asked. Her voice sounded strained.

'Then master told Kreacher to Side-Along-Apparate master and mistress into Master Sirius old bedroom, where master and mistress started making little wizards!' Kreacher beamed at them.

Harry was far from sharing the enthusiasm of his house elf. 'How do you know that?' he asked, dreading the answer.

'Master and mistress forgot the Silencing Charms,' the ancient house elf replied, while his face turned pink.

'Oh!' Harry replied and felt how his face turned a violent shade of red. 'Thank you, Kreacher, that's all. You may go.'

Kreacher bowed deeply and then Apparated away with a resounding CRACK.

The two young people looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

'So, is it true? Are we really married?' Harry finally broke the silence that had become uncomfortable.

Greengrass let out a deep sigh. 'I'm afraid so. The blacksmith of Gretna Green is traditionally a wizard and authorised to perform magical marriages. Any marriage vow taken in front of him and another witness is as binding as a marriage bonding ceremony performed by a Ministry official.'

'But surely there is a way out. Muggle marriages can be divorced,' Harry said hopefully, but his hopes were crushed when Greengrass shook her head.

'There is nothing like divorce in the Wizarding world, Potter. Taking the marriage vow means you're bound for life. Magical marriages can only be annulled, but that option is out of question for us since we've consummated the marriage, as any Healer is able to reveal with a simple spell.'

'Huh?'

'We've shagged, Potter. Sorry I used too many complicated words!' Greengrass fumed.

'Oh!' Harry felt as if a giant's fist had hit him in the stomach. He was married to Greengrass and there was no way out! Why by Merlin's unmentionables had all the bad things always to happen to him? He felt very sorry for himself, but there was also that pesky voice in the back of his head that told him that it was his own fault for getting that plastered that he lost his common sense. 'Oh, shut up!' he groaned to himself.

'What did you say, Potter?'

He blushed, 'Sorry, Greengrass. I was talking to myself. Bad habit.'

Silence reigned again. Greengrass sat in his bed, her face buried in the palms of her hands. He had no idea whether she was crying. If she was, he couldn't blame her. He felt like crying himself.

Finally, Harry gathered all of his Gryffindor courage. 'Look, Greengrass, I'm sorry. I should have taken no for an answer when you said you didn't want to shag without being married. Instead, I was so dumb to propose and drag you into this mess. I didn't want to ruin your life.'

Greengrass head snapped upwards and she stared at him as if he had grown another head. 'You're taking the mickey, aren't you?' she asked. Her eyes grew wide when Harry shook his head.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'Look, Greengrass,' he began, but she interrupted him.

'No, you listen, Potter. You're not the one to blame. You heard what your house elf said. I was the one who wanted to shag you, but insisted on getting married first. I was also the one who told you that we had to go to Gretna Green. If anyone has to be sorry, it is I. And I truly am. After all you've been through, you didn't deserve your life being ruined by being shackled to me against your will.'

In spite of his confusion, Harry had to grin. 'What Kreacher told us didn't sound as if you had to drag me there.'

The ghost of a smile flickered across Greengrass lips. 'Neither had you to drag me.'

Harry barked a short laugh. 'Yeah, it takes two to tango.'

'That it does,' Greengrass agreed with a sigh. 'Let's just agree that we both screwed up royally.'

'Yeah, you can say that again,' Harry sighed. 'The big question is, what are we doing now?'

Greengrass took a deep breath. 'Unfortunately, we don't have many options. We got married under Scottish magical marriage law, which is the strictest marriage law in the world. Any infringement of the law will have serious consequences to our magic. For example, living apart will weaken our magic considerably, and an extramarital affair will lead to an immediate loss of your magic.'

'Huh?'

Greengrass rolled her eyes. 'You can't cheat on me without instantly becoming a Squib, so you'll better keep your flies shut, Potter!'

'I got what you meant!' he defended himself. 'It's only – it's pretty harsh, isn't it?'

'Oh yes. But believe me, Potter, you got the better deal.' Her voice sounded bitter.

'What does that mean? Why did I get the better deal?'

A small tear trickled down her cheek. 'The Scottish marriage law hasn't been changed since the medieval. Taking the vows with you over the anvil of the blacksmith means I've virtually become your property. Everything I own is now yours. You have the right to decide where I live, with whom I can associate, if I'm allowed to work or to have money of my own. The English law isn't much better in that regard. That's why we have betrothal contracts, or prenuptial agreements, as the Muggles call them. They secure the rights of the bride.'

A quiver went through her body and she buried her head in the duvet. 'I ran away from home because the betrothal contract Nott proposed didn't allow me to work or even study on my own as soon as we were married. And now I was so dumb to enter into a marriage that doesn't leave me any rights!' she wailed.

Harry didn't know what to say or what to do. He stared at her back in horror. Certainly she didn't think that he would behave like a kind of slave master, did she? But her quivering back told him that she apparently did. He had to do something to reassure her, and be quick about it. Finally, he went over to her side of the bed and put a hand on her bare shoulder. She stiffened under his touch, but Harry was not deterred that easily.

'Look, Greengrass, I don't need your money, since I have enough of my own. And I definitely don't want to keep you from anything you want to do. If you want to work or to study, that's all right with me. Also, I won't interfere with the friends you like to have. That is, as long as they aren't Death Eaters who want to use you to get at me.'

She turned around and showed him her blotchy face. 'Really?' Her voice sounded disbelieving.

'I'll take a magical oath upon that. Or, even better, let us sign a contract that states what each of us is allowed to do,' he suggested.

A real smile spread across her face. 'Thank you, Potter. I appreciate that.'

He returned her smile. 'Good! So we are agreed on that. What about asking Kreacher to fix us some breakfast? It seems we have a lot to talk about and I don't want to face that on an empty stomach.'

'That sounds good to me!' Greengrass smiled. She bent toward him and kissed his cheek. 'Thanks, Potter!'

 **MY**

They took turns in the shower and then settled down in the kitchen for breakfast.

Greengrass looked around appreciatively in the spotlessly clean room. 'This room looks much better than anything else I've seen of this house so far,' she remarked while she spread jam on a piece of toast.

'Yeah, Kreacher worked wonders with this room,' Harry agreed. 'However, as I told you yesterday, the rest of the house is a dung heap. Dangerous, too. My godfather came from a very dark family, and they've collected all kinds of dark magical artefacts. It's so bad that I'm considering bringing a team of curse breakers in.'

'That'll cost a pretty penny,' Greengrass warned. 'Coming from a semi-dark family, I know quite a lot about dark artefacts. If you don't mind, I'll have a look before you squander your money on the Goblins.'

'Uh – why would you care how I spend my money, Greengrass?'

She sighed and waved her left hand in front of him, showing off her ring. 'We're married, Potter, or did you already forget? As your wife, I'd say I have an interest in how you spend your money. I don't know how much you're worth, but I can tell you there isn't much left of my Hogwarts trust, and with the way we got married I wouldn't count on my father giving us the customary dowry. We both haven't finished our educations yet, so it's possible that money will be pretty tight for us until then!'

'Oh!' He considered her words and then also sighed. 'Sorry, Greengrass, I've never cared much about money. But I guess you're right. You seem to know much more about these things than I do.' He took a bite of bacon, chewed and then said, 'Have a look at the artefacts, if you like. After what you told me, I guess you'll be living here, too. So it's only fair that you should have your say in the renovating and redecorating of the house.'

She smiled. 'Thank you. That is very considerate of you, Potter.'

When she smiled, two dimples appeared in her cheeks, Harry discovered. Also, the colour of her eyes seemed to become brighter. He called himself to order. There were bigger problems on his hand than the colour of Greengrass' eyes, however intriguing they were. 'So, where will we be going from here?' he asked.

Greengrass put her slice of toast back on her plate and let out a deep breath. 'As I see it, we have two options, Potter. The first one is that we both can't cope with this marriage and are forever at each other's throats until one of us is ready to kill the other. Which will be a bad thing, because magical marriage vows are designed to prevent that outcome. If one of us tried to kill the other, he'd also die.'

Harry made a face. 'That's not an option for me. I've just escaped a maniac and would like to enjoy my life from now on.'

She actually chuckled at that appreciatively. 'The other option is that we somehow make this marriage work. We are not in love with each other, so it won't be easy. But maybe we can learn to become friends and to be at least content, if not happy.'

He weighed her words. 'You mean, accept the situation as it is and make the best of it?'

'Something like that,' she nodded.

'That's typical Slytherin, isn't it?'

'I suppose you're right,' she answered reluctantly. 'But it's also something every Pureblood is taught from early childhood on. We all grow up with the prospect of being entered into betrothal contracts by our parents. Love matches almost never happen. So, the best you can expect as a Pureblood girl is a husband who treats you decently and with whom you can become friends. From what I know of you, Potter, and how you behaved this morning, I know you'll treat me decently. I hope we can become friends one day. I'm willing to make the effort, but I don't know if you have it in you. I remember a time at Hogwarts when you used to be angry and sulk a lot because things weren't going well for you.' She took a deep breath. 'When I think of the alternative that made me run away from home, I count myself lucky that I ended with you, Potter.'

He turned red at her last words, but considered them with a thoughtful expression on his face, while he ran a hand through his hair. 'Look, Greengrass, two months ago I escaped death by a hair's breadth. That gives you a completely new perspective on life, I can tell you. I vowed to myself that I'd stop wasting my life by butting my head against walls I can't tear down, making myself miserable while doing so, and focus instead on the things I'm able to do. Seems I just hit upon another wall.'

He gave her a wry grin, and she chuckled quietly.

'What I' m trying to say is, if you want to try to make the best of our situation, I'll do the same.' As mischievous grin appeared on his face and he winked at her. 'From what I saw of you, it probably won't cost me a big effort.'

That made her snort.

'Mind you, you're not the woman of my dreams, but I'll do my best that we feel at least comfortably with each other,' he went on. 'Deal?'

'Deal!' Greengrass confirmed.

They both grinned at each other, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

They still had a long way before them, Harry mused to himself, but the first important step was made. He cast a surreptitious glance at the young woman across the table. His memories of last night were hazy, at best, but scraps of a heated snog in the back yard of the pub popped up in his mind. She had pressed him flat against the wall of the house and rubbed herself against him until he thought he was going to explode into his pants. Later, in Sirius bedroom, they had practically ripped the clothes off each other, and then she had done things to him with her mouth and her tongue he hadn't thought of in his wildest dreams, until he couldn't restrain himself any longer and had flipped her on her back. The memory of her ecstatic cries when he had buried his length in her excitingly tight, hot folds made the blood rush in his cheeks, and he bowed his head deep over his plate to hide his embarrassment from her. He certainly wouldn't mind a repetition of that! By the way she had reacted to his ministrations, spurring him on and begging for more, she had enjoyed it as much as he did. They might not be in love with each other, but there was no denying of a strong sexual attraction between them. It was a weak and shaky foundation, but at least a common ground they could start from. Having made up his mind, he suddenly felt ravenous and dug into his breakfast.

'So, what's on the agenda today?' he asked when he finally pushed back his plate.

She ticked the topics off her fingers. 'Firstly, you'd need to key me into your wards. Then we need to go to my old place and get my things. I also need to terminate my rental contract. There's no use in squandering money we might need on an apartment I won't be able to use anymore due to our marriage.' Again, she blushed, but went on determinately. 'We also need to talk about money. Since I'm not allowed to keep my own vault any longer, we have to transfer my money into your vault. Then you have to tell the Goblins to give me access to your vault. Also, I need to know how much money I'm allowed to take for my personal expenses.'

He shrugged his shoulders at her last words. 'I don't know. As much as you need, I guess.'

She gaped at him. 'Come again?'

'How am I supposed to know how much money you need, Greengrass? I have no idea of the costs of girl things. Take as much as you need.'

She gave him a warm smile. 'Thank you, Potter. That's very generous of you. I'm honoured by your trust and I promise not to overstep the mark.'

'You're welcome,' Harry mumbled, and an uncomfortable silence ensued between the newlyweds, while Greengrass tried to regain her composure.

'We also need to determine the household expenses. You'd need to tell me how much money you make each year, and then I'll need to work out a budget plan.'

Again, Harry shrugged his shoulders. 'I have no idea about my yearly income, or if there even is one,' he admitted.

For the second time that morning Greengrass looked at him as if he had grown another head. 'But ... Don't you read your monthly vault statements, Potter?'

'My what?' Now it was his turn to look at her as if she had spoken Gobbledigok. 'Sorry, Greengrass, but I never got any vault statements.'

'That is highly unusual,' she mused, leaning back in her chair. 'So, I think it's safe to guess nobody ever taught you how to manage your holdings, Potter?'

'No, all I know is that it's bad to spend more money than I own,' he replied in an attempt of humour. 'Also, I knew the money my parents left me had to last until I was able to find work, so I spent as little as possible during my Hogwarts days. There still should be left plenty in my vault of which we can live until I've got my NEWTs and start Auror training.'

Greengrass made a face.

'Don't you like my career plans, Greengrass?' Harry asked, feeling slightly irritated.

'No, that's all right with me,' she assured him. 'Being an Auror is a very prestigious position in our society, and I'm sure you'll do admirably and will climb the ranks in record time. I won't have to worry if you'll be able to support me and our children.'

'Our what?!' he exclaimed, his voice cracking.

She gave him a strained smile. 'I hope for the sake of both of us that we'll get there one day,' she said quietly.

He considered that. 'Yeah, I suppose you're right.'

'However, I guess I have to get used to the thought that my husband is pursuing a rather dangerous job. My plans for life included nothing like that, and I will need some time to get used to that. Sorry, Potter.'

He let that pass with a nod. Their ill-advised marriage would need a lot of adjustment on both sides to make it work, he thought.

'Anything else we need to do?' he asked. His head was already spinning from what she had told him so far.

'Oh, about a billion of other things,' she replied with a false cheerfulness. 'We'll get there eventually. Are you finished with your breakfast? Then we should proceed with our agenda for today posthaste.'

He nodded to that.

Five minutes later, he had included her into the _Fidelius Charm_ on his house. With the help of Professor Flitwick he had taken down the old _Fidelius Charm_ that included the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix as Secret Keepers, and cast a new _Fidelius Charm_ with Harry as the sole Secret Keeper the day before. After his break-up with Ginny, he didn't want an enraged member of the Weasley family coming after him, or, even worse, a tear-streaked Ginny begging him to give their relationship another try.

It was funny, he mused. Yesterday he had been devastated over their break-up. He had thought that he loved Ginny, and the discovery that she was shallow and even callous at heart had hurt him deeply. But so much had happened since then that had turned his life upside down that he didn't have the energy to mourn about his failed relationship any longer. What was a little heartbreak compared to the mess he was in right now?

Another five minutes later Greengrass had Apparated him to the room she had rented in an apartment in a Muggle neighbourhood. He watched how she neatly packed her few belongings and then handed in the termination of her rent to her landlord.

They returned to Grimmauld Place, so that Greengrass, who still wore the short dress from the previous evening, could change into proper robes. Harry also pulled robes over his jeans and t-shirt. He then Side-Along-Apparated Greengrass to Diagon Alley.

They had both put on their wizard hats and pulled the brim deep into their faces lest to be recognised. Keeping their eyes lowered, they managed to reach Gringotts without anyone recognising Harry.

'Good afternoon. I am Harry Potter and I need to talk to the manager of my vault,' Harry told the Goblin at the counter as Greengrass had instructed him.

The Goblin snapped his fingers. 'Take a seat in the waiting room. Director Ragnok will be with you in a couple of minutes.' He pointed with his long index finger to a door that had materialised in the wall opposite of the counter.

Harry took Greengrass by the elbow and guided her into the waiting room.

Greengrass waited until the door had closed behind them. Then she turned to Harry. 'Tell me, Potter, how much money do you really own?'

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. 'I already told you, I have no idea. The last time I visited my vault was the summer before our third year. I remember that the pile of Galleons went up to my chest. I hardly made a dent into it with the Galleons I took. There were also piles of Sickles and Knuts, almost as high as the pile of Galleons. After that, it became increasingly dangerous for me to show up in Diagon Alley, so Mrs Weasley went to the bank for me and also made my purchases.'

She put a finger on her lips, obviously pondering his words. 'That sounds as if you own considerably more money than I, but not like that much that it would explain why the director of Gringotts is personally managing your vault. He's only available for the really rich families, such as the Ogdens and the Lestranges.'

Harry sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs the room provided. 'Maybe it has to do with my break-in, though I thought Kingsley has settled that with the Goblins. At least that's what he told me the day after the battle.'

Greengrass' eyes went wide. 'B...break-in? K...Kingsley?' she stuttered. She sat down beside him. 'All right, Potter, I think you owe me some explanations.'

He stiffened. 'I don't want to talk about it!'

'I thought as much. But we are married, Potter. We're in this for the rest of our lives. If you've got problems with the Goblins because of your break-in, that's going to have a huge impact on our financial situation. As your wife who is supposed to keep your household, you ought to warn me about possible repercussions, so that I am prepared and can take the appropriate measures.'

The look she gave him made him think of the Hungarian Horntail he had to face during the Triwizard Tournament, and he reconsidered his decision. Besides that, he had to admit she was right. As his wife she had to know.

'While we were on the run, we found out we had to get a certain – item that was hidden at Gringotts. We managed to get into the vault where that item was hidden, but then we were discovered, and we had to flee from the bank on the back of a dragon. That caused a lot of damage to the bank. Also, we set the dragon free after it brought us up north.'

She gaped at him. 'I -I guess I can see why the Goblins might be a trifle vexed with you,' she deadpanned. 'But you mentioned that has been sorted?'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, that's what Kingsley told me the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. He said he personally talked to the director of Gringotts and made amends in the name of the Wizarding nation. He was sure there would be no further repercussions for me because of the break-in.'

'Let's hope you're right,' she sighed. 'You mentioned the name Kingsley. Did you mean Minister Shacklebolt?'

'Yeah, he's an old friend.'

Her eyes got wide. 'Wow, Potter, I had no idea you are that well connected!'

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'He's an old acquaintance from the days when the Ministry still denied that Voldemort was back. Kingsley always had my back. He worked in the background so that I could ... well, so that I could do the things I had to do to bring Voldemort down. He never asked questions, but simply accepted there were things I couldn't tell. That kind of trust really meant a lot to me, and earned him my trust in return. After the Battle, Kingsley became my mentor. I've lost everyone who was close to me during the war – my parents, my godfather and the last living best friend of my parents. Though the Weasleys have been great to me, I never felt comfortable to seek advice from them, maybe because they already have so many children they have to care for that I didn't want to be an additional burden. Also, Mrs Weasley can be rather smothering. I don't have these qualms when I talk to Kingsley. He accepts me as his equal, I guess. He gives advice, but he doesn't coddle me.'

He snapped his mouth shut. He had no idea why he had told her that much. Merlin, he barely knew her, and already told her more about himself than he had ever told Ron and Hermione or even Ginny. He was interrupted in his musings by a young Goblin.

'Director Ragnok is ready to see you!'

They followed the young Goblin down a corridor. A thick carpet cushioned their feet, and the walls were adorned by masterfully crafted, yet rather graphic magical paintings of battles of the many wars between Goblins and wizards.

Harry felt how Greengrass, who walked beside him, shuddered and kept her eyes lowered to the ground, so she had not to look at the barbaric paintings. He touched her arm briefly in a gesture he hoped that was supporting, and was rewarded when she gave him a thankful smile.

The young Goblin ushered them into an office that was adorned with bookshelves and a huge, ornate desk made of highly polished mahogany. The Goblin behind the desk was dressed in the dark suit with vest and fob chain that seemed to be customary for the Goblins at Gringotts, though his suit apparently was made of a finer material than the suits of the Goblins behind the counters in the hall. Also, this Goblin appeared to be much older than any other Goblin Harry had seen. His head was bald, and his face was lined with thousands of wrinkles. His dark eyes, however, looked sharp and full of energy when he raised his gaze from the ledger in front of him as they entered the office.

'Ah, Mrs and Mr Potter. I've been expecting you today. Please, take a seat,' he greeted them, not raising from his chair.

Harry and Greengrass exchanged a look while they sat down.

'Our records are self-updating and inform us immediately of any change in the status of our clients,' Director Ragnok answered their unasked questions. 'Let me offer you my congratulations to your union. May it be fruitful and prosperously!'

Harry and Greengrass thanked him politely, though they did not dare look at each other.

' _Fruitful and prosperously, my arse_!' Harry thought. By her stiff posture he could tell that Greengrass shared his reservations.

'It's most unfortunate that you didn't take the time to make a proper betrothal contract before your union,' Director Ragnok continued. 'Due to the barbaric law you chose to marry under, your vault, Mrs Potter, has to be closed and its content added to the Potter fortune.'

Greengrass winced at that, but nodded in silent resignation.

Ignoring her reaction, Director Ragnok went on. 'However, you will be relieved to hear that the Potter House Charter prevents you from the worst repercussions of your rash union. We'll add your fortune to the vault of the Potter Wives Trust. In this vault, the Potters collected the dowries of their wives since the times Gringotts was founded. From the day of the marriage, every Potter wife has access to her share of the interest. Currently, you are the only female entitled to the interest of that vault. Eventually, you'll have to share it with the wife of your firstborn son. According to the Potter House Charter, you're allowed to take your yearly share of the interest and keep it in a vault in your own name. I daresay you'll be most satisfied with the current earnings. You'll be relieved to hear that the Potter House Charter prevents the reigning head of house from denying you access to the interest or taking away the key to your personal vault by the threat of losing his magic if he even attempts so.'

Harry felt how Greengrass visibly relaxed beside him, and he began to understand how much the prospect of being completely dependent on his goodwill had scared her. He reached out with his hand and gently pressed her arm. She turned her head and smiled briefly at him, but Director Ragnog demanded their attention with his next words.

'I took the freedom to close your trust vault, Mrs Potter. The key has already been magically returned to Gringotts. Also, I've opened a new vault in your name and transferred this year's interest to that vault. Here are the key and the opening vault statement.' He handed Greengrass a small, golden key and a sheet of parchment.

Greengrass took the items with a soft 'Thank you!' She looked briefly at the parchment in her hands. When her eyes fell at the number on the bottom of the parchment, she let out a loud gasp. 'No way! That's more than three times as much as the content of the trust vault my parents gave me!'

'You'll find out that the Potters are a very wealthy family, though that is not common knowledge in the magical world, Mrs Potter,' Director Ragnog said and turned to Harry.

'I'm very happy to tell you that your current change of status finally enables Gringotts to fulfil the stipulations of the will of your late grandfather Fleamont Potter, Mr Potter, since you becoming married before your eighteenth birthday is one of the conditions that enables you to get full access to your inheritance.'

'Huh?' Harry asked. He had no idea what Director Ragnok was talking about, and ignored the slight poke in the side Greengrass gave him.

'By the stipulations of the will of your grandfather you are his sole heir. From today on, you have access to all investments in the magical world as well as in the Muggle world. Of course, you'll have a board of managers to advise you, but the last decision is up to you. That brings me to an important matter we have to discuss with you.' He cleared his throat.

'Gringotts has noticed that our owls haven't been able to reach you since the death of your parents. It has also come to our attention that wizards and witches who wanted to thank you after the first downfall of the Dark Lord met the same problem.'

'That's true!' Greengrass interjected. 'My owl also couldn't reach him!'

When Harry and Director Ragnok stared at her, she covered her mouth with her hand and turned a violent shade of red.

Harry thought he couldn't believe his ears. 'You sent an owl to me?' Harry asked, just to make sure he heard her right.

'Yes, when I was six years old. I asked for your autograph,' Greengrass replied, still very red in the face.

Harry gave her an incredulous glance. 'So, you're not better than any fan girl at Hogwarts, Greengrass? Tell me, did you also belong to the Harry Potter Fan Club?'

'Certainly not!' Greengrass fumed, her embarrassment gone as quickly as it had come. 'Any silly notions I had about you were drowned out when I noticed what a pathetic little runt you were in our first year.'

He smirked. 'Ah, good! You almost had me there, Greengrass!'

Director Ragnok gave them a close-lipped smile. 'However interesting this little lover's banter might be, I'd like to go on with our meeting. Time is gold, after all.'

Harry and Greengrass both turned red at his words, and with an apologising gesture Harry motioned Director Ragnok to go on.

'We're afraid that a ban that prevents you from receiving owls except those from a very small circle of people has been put on your person, Mr Potter. At present, we don't have the time to investigate that further. But it's paramount that your managers can get into contact with you any time without the danger of your mail being intercepted, so we'd like you to set up a Banishing Box with Gringotts, so that you can receive our mail. Of course, Gringotts will provide the customary service that comes with the box, such as scanning your mail for curses, dark items and potions, and also filter any Howlers that might be sent to you.'

From the corner of his eye Harry saw that Greengrass seemed to be surprised at these words, and made a mental note to ask her later what this was about. But since her demeanour betrayed no objections to Director Ragnok's suggestion, he said, 'I agree with your suggestion, Director Ragnok. What will I have to do to obtain such a box?'

Director Ragnok gave him another close-lipped smile and replied, 'I took already the liberty to make the necessary arrangements. You'll just have to sign here, Mr Potter. The box will be delivered to you when you leave our house.' He pushed a sheet of parchment to Harry and indicated to the spot where Harry had to sign. Then he handed him an extraordinarily sharp pointed quill with a blood red feather.

Harry made a face when he recognised the blood quill, but took it and signed quickly, ignoring the sharp pain on the back of his hand. He waved his other hand over the cut and healed it with a silent spell, not noticing the impressed looks Director Ragnok and Greengrass gave him.

'You might want to include Mrs Potter into the service of the box,' Director Ragnok continued.

Harry exchanged a look with Greengrass.

'Actually, I think that's a good idea. As soon as the news of our marriage's out, I'm bound to receive a lot of Howlers,' Greengrass said.

' _Especially when the circumstances of our marriage come out into the open,_ ' Harry added mentally, and he could see that Greengrass' thoughts went into the same direction. He nodded at Director Ragnok. 'She's right. Please, add my wife, Director Ragnok.'

My wife! It felt strange to speak of Greengrass that way, Harry thought, but somehow he couldn't help himself but feel a slight tinge of pride.

Director Ragnok pushed the parchment to Greengrass and handed her the blood quill. She signed without any indication that she felt the sting of the quill. Before she could pull out her wand to heal the small cut, Harry cast a silent and wandless Healing Spell. Her eyes widened in surprise as she noticed her hand healing itself by magic, and she sent Harry a small, thankful smile.

'The content of the vault your parents left you has been added to the personal vault of the Potter Head of House. Beginning as of today, that vault will serve as your personal vault until the day you die. Then the vaults and its content will be transferred to your heir. You have received fifty percent of the interest of the Potter holdings from the day your father died, as it is written down in the Potter House Charter. The accumulated interest should be sufficient to enable any changes you and Mrs Potter will want to make at the Potter residences. Also, beginning as of today, you'll receive fifty percent of the yearly interest to support yourself and your family. The other half of the interest is transferred to the Potter Younger Children Trust, so that you don't have to make provisions for younger children who are not entitled to inherit, in case there are any. Any other items, as art, furniture and the jewellery, are stored in the Potter Family vault. You're entitled to use these items, but per the Potter Family Charter they can't be sold without the consent of your wife. Also, you may want to give your wife access to that vault so that she can take out jewellery and items she wants to use for your residences.'

Harry nodded mutely to that, and Director Ragnok made a note into the ledger in front of him.

He then pushed the ledger toward Harry and put a large, golden key on top of it. 'You'll find any information pertaining to the Potter holdings and your personal vault in this ledger. This is the key to your personal vault. Please excuse me now, I have other meetings to attend to.'

He snapped his fingers. The door to his office opened to let in the young Goblin that had guided Harry and Greengrass to Director Ragnok. They bade good bye to Director Ragnok and followed the young Goblin back to the hall. There, another Goblin waited for them and gave them an ornate, wooden box that thankfully could be shrunken to the size of a matchbox. He also handed Harry a bag full of Galleons, a wallet with Muggle pounds and a credit card. Then he turned to Greengrass and gave her also a bag of Galleons, Muggle money and a credit card.

Harry shrunk the Banishing Box as well as the ledger Director Ragnok had given him and put them into the Moke skin pouch that had been hanging around his neck ever since Hagrid had given it to him as a present for his seventeenth birthday. The key to his new personal vault followed suit.

Only few people knew that this pouch contained his prized possessions: the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father, the Marauder's Map, his holly wand and his Gringotts key.

No one except Harry knew that the pouch also contained the Elder Wand. As far as the Wizarding world was concerned, he had put back that wand into Dumbledore's grave right after the battle, and the grave was surrounded by extra strong protection wards set up by Professor Flitwick and a team of Unspeakables and Curse Breakers from Gringotts to prevent another theft. Only Harry knew that the wand in the grave was a fake he had conjured with the Elder Wand the morning he was supposed to hide the powerful magical weapon for eternity.

Harry and Greengrass walked out of the bank and onto Diagon Alley. Harry started to speak, but Greengrass interrupted him.

'Not here!' she hissed. 'Let's find a quiet place, preferably in the Muggle world, and talk there!'

'You're right,' Harry nodded. 'Any suggestions?'

'I think I know exactly the place where to go.' Greengrass replied. She took him by the arm and guided him through the Leaky Cauldron onto Charing Cross Road. There she led him to a quiet side alley, where she transfigured their robes into smart casual Muggle attire. Back on Charing Cross Road, she flagged down a taxi that took them to _Harrods_.

'Where are we going?' Harry asked when they left the cab.

'To the _Georgian Restaurant_ for tea,' Greengrass replied. 'I've been there often with Tracey and her parents. It's unlikely that anyone from the magical world will find us there. If you set up your ingenious silent and wandless _Privacy Wards_ and _Anti-Listening-Charms_ , we will be quite undisturbed, I imagine.'

She led him to the restaurant on the fourth floor. Harry had to agree, it was a nice place to sit and talk, and the tea was sumptuous. He cast the charms she had required after the waiter had served them and looked at her expectantly.

Greengrass took her time to pour the tea. Then she leaned back in her chair and regarded him with a stern look that reminded him of Professor McGonagall. 'You could have told me about the provisions made by your house charter for the women that marry into your family, Potter, instead of letting me stew for a couple of hours.' Her voice sounded miffed.

'I had no idea! In fact, until our meeting with Director Ragnok I didn't even knew that the Potters had a house charter, or that I am the heir of my grandfather!' he defended himself.

Greengrass looked at him incredulously. 'Do you really expect me to believe that rubbish, Potter? All Pureblood children are taught about their house rules. You might be a Halfblood, but your father is from an old Pureblood family, so you certainly got the same education as all of us.'

'And that's where you're wrong, Greengrass,' Harry interrupted her tirade. 'I might be from an old Pureblood family, but I was raised by Muggles. Muggles who hated anything magical, on top of that. I didn't know that I was a wizard before my eleventh birthday, and even then my relatives still tried to prevent me from entering the magical world.'

He interrupted himself and took a sip of tea. He felt uncomfortable that he had to give her that much personal information, but his gut feeling told him that as his wife she had the right to know. That and the fact she would probably hex him into next week if he didn't give her a good explanation why he didn't tell her anything about the Potter House Charter.

'When I was at Hogwarts, the adults in my life never told me anything about that. I have no idea if they didn't know or just didn't care. I can't ask them anymore; they are all gone. You might say I should have asked questions. But there was always so much going on in my life that that never occurred to me. Also, due to the wards Dumbledore had set up at my relative's house and Voldemort's return, I was virtually a prisoner when I was home for the holidays, so even if I had thought of going to Gringotts and ask them about my financial situation, it was impossible for me to do so.'

He took another sip of tea and watched with relief how the angry expression on her face dissipated.

For a few minutes they both indulged in their tea without speaking. Then Harry remembered that he had wanted to ask her something at Gringotts.

'Say, Greengrass, back at Gringotts you looked surprised when Director Ragnok suggested that I should obtain a Banishing Box. Why?'

Greengrass put down her cup of tea and daintily dabbed her mouth with her napkin. 'The Gringotts Banishing Box is only offered to their most important clients. Though my family is well off, we're not considered to be sufficiently important for that honour. Your family's wealth and standing must be even better than that of the Malfoys, because I know for certain they never had a Banishing Box, or all of Hogwarts would have known it.'

He considered her words for a moment. Then his mouth formed a silent 'Oh!'

Greengrass regarded him with a strange smile. 'I have to apologise to you, Potter. This morning I said you got the better deal out of our marriage. With everything I know now about your house charter, I'd say I was wrong. I know now that I made the better deal. I got an obviously rich husband, freedom in financial matters and high social standing out of it, while you are shackled to a witch with a mediocre dowry that comes from a family with a dubious reputation. That's not what anyone would have expected from the Saviour of the Light. I'd not be surprised if everybody will tell you I trapped you into marriage as soon as the circumstances of our marriage come out into the open.'

Harry put down his sandwich. 'I thought we'd already agreed that we are both to blame for the circumstances of our marriage, Greengrass, so there's no need to be sorry. Also, I see no reason why they should ever become public knowledge.'

'They will!' Greengrass contradicted. 'The blacksmith and his wife know. They will talk about it, that's in the human nature. You're the Chosen One, Potter, so this is too juicy a story not to come out.' Her voice sounded resigned.

Harry considered her words. He thought of the many times he had been exposed to public contempt and even ridicule because of the untruthful stories that circulated about him. By now he was used to the Wizarding world worshipping him in one week and condemning him in the next, and he knew that he could face another round of ridicule when the truth about his marriage came out. But was that also true for Greengrass? Somehow, Harry doubted that. She had belonged to the quiet Slytherins during their Hogwarts days, always keeping in the background and never openly voicing her support for one side or the other. He supposed that had been her way to survive the conflict that divided the school unscathed, but it also made it unlikely that she would be able to weather the upcoming shitstorm. He had the vague feeling that it was up to him as her husband to stand by her side and shield her from the fallout, but he had no idea how to do that.

He let out a deep sigh. 'So, let's suppose the truth will come out and hell breaks loose. I think I have a good idea what the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_ will write about you then. Any idea what we can do about that?'

She seemed to have an idea, but hesitated to speak.

'Out with it, Greengrass! I'm thankful for any suggestions!' He took another bite of his sandwich, giving her time to order her thoughts.

'Actually, there are two things you might consider doing,' she began haltingly. 'The interview you gave the _Quibbler_ during our fifth year was a masterstroke and did a lot to correct the public opinion about you. You should do something like that again.'

'Not I, we, Greengrass!' Harry corrected her. 'We're in this mess together, so I'll be damned if I make a cat's-paw out of myself for your sake!'

She had to grin at that. 'I'm glad you see it this way, Potter. That makes my next suggestion easier. To prevent the gossip, we simply have to present a united front to the outside world.'

It took him a few moments to understand the meaning of her words. 'You mean, we'll have to play the happy newlyweds?' As much as he tried, he wasn't able to keep the horror out of his voice.

'Don't give me that deer-caught-in-the-wandlight look, Potter. From what Kreacher told us this morning, you didn't seem to find me repulsive last night,' she giggled.

He had the grace to blush at that. 'That might be true, but unfortunately I can't remember much of that!' he growled, but felt at the same time how the blush crept in his cheeks.

That made her laugh even harder. When he finally understood the absurdity of their situation, he had to join her laughter. Their laughter cleared the air.

'It's not that bad, Potter. Thankfully I come from a Pureblood family and Purebloods have the reputation to behave with the utmost restraint when they are in company when it comes to matters of the heart. Nobody will be surprised if you are considerate of my sensibilities. It will also help that I maintained the reputation of an Ice Queen during our time at Hogwarts. So all you'll have to do is kiss my hand frequently and peck me on the cheek in greeting and for good bye. And, of course, all our disagreements have to be kept under wraps until we are behind our own doors and strong Silencing Charms. Do you think you can do that?'

Harry made a face. 'I'm all right with the hand kissing and pecks on the cheek, though I'll probably feel like a ponce, but I'm not as confident when it comes to keeping my anger under wraps. I've always been told that I wear my heart on my sleeve and am too easy to goad.'

Greengrass bent her head to the side. 'Yes, I remember you were constantly exploding during our fifth year. Tracey and I used to call you Mount Etna because of that between ourselves.'

She giggled as he glared at her.

'However, you were different during our sixth year. I can't remember any spectacular outbursts from that year. Also, I've watched you today. You have to be under pressure because of our situation, but up till now I've felt no trace of anger coming from you.'

He gave her a wry smile. 'Believe me, Greengrass, I had my moments and I still have.'

'Then I should probably show you the meditation exercises I used during our time at Hogwarts to maintain my reputation as the residing Ice Queen,' she mused.

'I'd be grateful for that,' he replied, and he meant it.

Greengrass worried her lower lip between her teeth. 'I also should tell my parents. Even though I ran away from home, it feels wrong to me to have them read the news of our marriage in the newspapers, especially if the article is written by Skeeter. We ought to visit them as soon as possible.'

Harry winced at the prospect, but agreed. He had told her he was willing to make their marriage work, and that probably also included maintaining a certain relationship to her parents.

'You also ought to tell your friends,' Greengrass reminded him.

'Ron and Hermione are currently in Australia, searching for Hermione's parents. They are travelling as Muggles, so I can't send them an owl. I have no idea where they are right now, so Muggle mail is out of the question. And I'd rather face a Hungarian Horntail again than to return to the Burrow and tell Ginny and Mrs Weasley about our wedding. I'll write to Neville and Luna and tell them the news, though.'

'Coward!' Greengrass snorted. 'You can write to the Weasleys when you write to Longbottom and Lovegood.'

 **MY**

If Harry had thought they would return to Grimmauld Place after their tea at Harrods, he was mistaken. With the impending visit to her parents, Greengrass insisted on getting him measured for robes from Twillfitt and Tattings. It seemed to him like an eternity until she finally agreed with the tailor on the appropriate cut of the robes and picked out the right fabric from the dozens of rolls of fabric they were shown. To Harry, they looked all the same, but Greengrass assured him there were subtle differences that would indicate to his social standing and that her parents would very likely notice.

'You'd like to imply that you are above them, Potter, money-wise as well as in your social standing. Things like that are important to my parents, and if we want them to leave us alone, you'd have to make sure right from the beginning that you are moving in circles that are out of their reach,' Greengrass explained.

'I'll take you up on that,' Harry sighed and let her have her way.

But his troubles were not yet over when they returned to Grimmauld Place.

Greengrass insisted on giving Sirius old bedroom a complete makeover. 'It reeks of mould,' she complained.

Harry had to admit she had a point there.

'And I refuse to stay in a room that has distasteful pictures of half-naked sluts on motorbikes on the walls!' she announced.

'Eh – I thought you'd like to have your own room, Greengrass,' Harry interjected.

She gave him an annoyed side glance. 'That won't do, Potter. Living apart will weaken our magic. It doesn't matter if we live in separate houses or separate rooms. Whether you like it or not, we'll have to share a bedroom for the rest of our lives. And we'll eventually again have to practise how to make little wizards, though I suppose that won't mean too much of a sacrifice on your part.'

Harry turned beet red at the undeniable truth of her statement, but her blunt speech had efficiently silenced him. He raised no more objections against helping her redecorating the room.

With Kreacher's help they got rid of the offending posters.

'Do you want to keep them, Potter?' Greengrass asked sweetly.

Harry didn't deign her an answer. Instead he directed a silent and wandless ' _Incendio_!' at the posters, which made her shriek. He was dumb enough not to hide his amusement.

Greengrass narrowed her eyes, pulled out her wand and sent a silent _Tickling Hex_ at him, that he could barely dodge.

He retaliated with another silent and wandless _Tickling Hex_ squarely into her ribcage. Eventually, he lifted the hex, but not before she begged for it.

A rather dishevelled Greengrass got up from the floor of Sirius' old bedroom – no, their bedroom. Harry admitted to himself that she looked hot with her mussed up hair and pink cheeks, even though -or maybe just because – her beautiful eyes were glaring daggers at him.

'Truce?' Harry offered and gave her his best puppy-dog-eyes.

'Truce!' Greengrass huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

They then went to the difficult task to pick out colours for their room.

'I like the red and gold,' Harry said.

Greengrass crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'I refuse to sleep in Gryffindor colours!'

'All right, but then silver and green is also out of the question,' Harry grinned.

'Agreed,' Greengrass replied.

Eventually, they agreed on a colour scheme of cream and muted gold, and called Kreacher to change the room to their liking. The queen-sized four-poster bed now had cream coloured curtains, and the bed linen was cream and muted gold. They kept the huge wardrobe, but the desk was transformed into a dresser for Greengrass, with a matching cream coloured chair. Greengrass then asked Kreacher to add a sitting area with a small sofa and a chair, all done in cream coloured satin, and decorated with cushions in cream and gold.

Happy with the result of their hard work, they went down to the kitchen to have a rather late dinner. After dinner, they stayed in the kitchen, because no other room of the house was yet ready for occupation, but it didn't take long until they both started yawning.

They shared an uneasy glance.

'I don't know about you, Potter,' Greengrass started before a huge yawn almost split her face into halves. She quickly put her hand in front of her mouth and then went on. 'I'm dead on my feet. There's no use in putting off the inevitable. Let's just be sensible about this and go to bed.'

Harry nodded. He couldn't help but admire her prosaic attitude to their ill-advised marriage, he thought while he followed her up to their room. During the day he had done his best to emulate her example. He didn't want to show any weakness in front of her. She was a Slytherin, after all, and he wouldn't put it past her to use his weak points against him, even though she had behaved decent so far.

Greengrass went to the bathroom to get ready, and he changed into his pyjama bottoms. When she returned, it was his turn in the bathroom.

She was already in bed when he came back, and he padded around the bed to his side and climbed in. ' _Nox_!' he thought and the lights in the bedroom went out.

They both lay on their sides, backs turned to each other, and waited in vain for sleep to claim them. Harry let the events of the day pass through his mind and sighed. Even though there was no doubt for him that he was through with Ginny, there was also no denying that he didn't love Greengrass and had made the biggest mistake of his life when he decided to marry her in an alcohol-induced hormone rush. He could only hope that they were able to make it work, and that he would not be ready to commit suicide because of his screwed up life sometime in the future.

He could feel Greengrass shift and sigh beside him, and he knew that in the darkness of the night her fears of the future were as bad as his.

He tried to imagine what his friends would say. He could probably call himself lucky if he got away with nothing more damaging than a Bat-Bogey-Hex from Ginny, he mused. Luna would tell him he had been infested by Wrackspurts or some other strange magical vermin only she ever had heard of. Neville would back him, however the outcome of his marriage was going to be. Hermione would deliver a lecture about the risks of getting drunk, tell him that he got what he deserved and then give him a book with advice about how to lead a happy marriage. And Ron – well, Ron would probably be the most difficult to deal with. He would take umbrage that Greengrass was a Slytherin, that was granted. He would probably never trust her, and that would put a strain on their friendship. But on the other hand Ron had belonged to those Gryffindor boys who had secretly lusted after Greengrass. There had been quite a lot of them in their house. Ron, Seamus and Dean in his year, the twins, and that oaf MacLaggen, to name only a few.

At the thought that he was condemned to share a bed with the girl who had been the wet dream of at least half of the male population of the Gryffindor dorms and somehow couldn't find it in himself to appreciate his luck, he had to chuckle.

'What's so funny, Potter?' Greengrass asked. She had rolled on her back and he heard her turn her head in his direction.

He also rolled on his back and turned his face to her. In the lamplight that fell through the slit in the curtains he could see the faint gleam of her eyes. 'I just thought that half of my dorm mates would give anything to be in my shoes right now, but that I'm somehow lacking their enthusiasm.'

She also snorted. 'Same here. About half of the female population of Slytherin wouldn't have minded to share some quality time in a broom closet with you, Potter, especially in our sixth year.'

'What?' he exclaimed.

'You didn't know?'

'I had no idea!' Another thought hit him. 'Who ...' he started, but then interrupted himself. 'Never mind. There are some things I probably don't want to know.'

She giggled at that. 'Oh, you want to know who was after you? Well, let me think for a moment. There was ...'

'No!' he shouted. 'Stop it, Greengrass, or I'll tell you who the blokes in my dorms were who probably thought of you when they wanked!'

'Eww, too much information, Potter!'

They both broke out into laughter.

She reached out with her hand and briefly touched his. 'Thanks, Potter. I needed a good laugh.'

'You're welcome. Good night, Greengrass!'

'Night, Potter!'

They both turned around and fell asleep quickly.

 **MY**

Much too soon for Harry's taste Kreacher woke them up the next morning.

Like the day before, the scent of citrus and lavender filled his nostrils. Harry smiled in his sleepy state and opened his eyes.

He lay on his side. A honey-blonde head was buried into his chest. Harry had a strange sense of _deja-vue_.

The moment he woke up, the girl by his side stirred. She opened her eyes. Realising where she had ended in her sleep, her cheeks turned pink, but she looked up at Harry and smiled. 'Thanks, Potter. You make a nice teddy bear!'

Harry snorted. 'You're welcome!'

Greengrass took her wand from the bedside table and cast ' _Tempus!_ ' When she noticed the time, she let out a shriek and jumped out of bed. 'I'll have to hurry or I'll be late for work!' She vanished into the bathroom.

Harry had nothing special planned for that day, so he dozed off again. However, he was woken when Greengrass entered the room again.

She wore a black sheath dress with long sleeves and matching high heels. Her hair was pulled together in an elegant knot at the back of her head, and she had applied only little make-up.

'Wow, you look stunning!' The compliment had escaped his lips before he even knew it. Harry turned beet red.

She smiled at him over her shoulder while she fiddled with her earring. 'Thanks, Potter. This is the way I'm supposed to dress at the boutique. Work clothes, so to speak.'

'Doesn't matter. They look good on you.'

She had finally put the stubborn earring in its place and now turned around to him. 'Do you want to join me for breakfast?'

He nodded and got out of bed. Slipping into Sirius' old bathrobe, he followed her down the stairs, and did his best not to stare at her swaying hips in the elegant dress.

Breakfast was a hurried affair, with Greengrass constantly looking at the stylish silver watch on her wrist. Finally she jumped up. 'I'll have to go or I'll be late. Bye, Potter. Bye, Kreacher!'

She whirled out of the kitchen. Seconds later Harry heard the front door shut behind her. He snorted when he looked at his house elf.

Kreacher stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door through which Greengrass had just disappeared, a look of adoration on his ugly face.

'Kreacher!' He had to address his house elf once more until he woke up from his daze.

'Master!' he gasped. 'Kreacher is a bad elf for not immediately answering to master. Kreacher has to ...'

'It's all right, Kreacher. I don't blame you. I guess it's as hard for you to get used to a new mistress as it is for me to get used to a wife,' he added quietly to himself.

 **MY**

He showered and dressed, and then called out to Kreacher. 'Kreacher, I'm going out!'

He _Apparated_ from the doorsteps, and seconds later he found himself in the backyard of the Tonk's home.

Andy's eyes lit up as she opened the door. 'Harry! What a surprise! I didn't expect you before Wednesday. Teddy will be delighted to see you.'

She let him into the house, and Harry followed her into the living room. A broad smile appeared on his face when he saw the pram with his godson. At the age of almost twelve weeks Teddy beamed happily at everyone who peeked into his pram. Today was no exception. The infant gave Harry a broad, toothless smile and gurgled, while his tuft of silky baby hair underwent a rapid change of colours. That was a sign of utmost contentment, Harry had learned.

'Hey, little guy!' he smiled at his godson when he picked him up. Teddy snuggled against his chest, and Harry inhaled deeply the unique baby smell of powder and sour milk.

Andromeda watched them from the door. 'You're good with him, Harry, and he loves it when you are here. But what brings you here today?'

Harry let out a deep sigh while he followed her into the kitchen, his godson on his arm. 'I need to talk to you, Andy. I've screwed up royally and I need your advice.'

Andromeda turned away from the stove, the tea-kettle in her hands. 'Don't you tell me you got the Weasley girl pregnant!' she exclaimed, a look of horror on her face.

'No, it's nothing like that,' he assured her, while his heart plummeted into his stomach. Had he and Greengrass ever thought of contraceptives on their wedding night? 'In fact, I broke up with her two days ago.'

Andromeda breathed out audibly. 'I'm relieved to hear that,' she remarked and put the kettle on the stove. She lit the stove with a flick of her wand and then turned back to Harry. 'I'm sorry to tell you, Harry, but I always had the impression she was nothing more than a fan girl who liked to bask in your glory.'

'You weren't that far off the mark,' Harry replied and shifted Teddy from one arm to the other as he sat down at the table. 'It took me some time to realise she only used me, but when I did, I broke up with her immediately.'

'I guess that makes things with the Weasleys awkward. You are still staying with them, don't you? If you need another place to bunk in, you're welcomed to my guest room, Harry.' She pulled out a chair from the table and sat down opposite of him.

'Thanks, Andy, that's very nice of you. But I'm staying at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher has returned from Hogwarts and we're trying to get the house back into shape,' Harry smiled.

She returned his smile. 'Now, that's good to hear. Even though I was disinherited by my family, I hated to see my ancestral home going to ruin. I'm sure you'll return the house to its old glory. It was a rather pleasant home in the days of my grandparents, but then came Aunt Walburga. Her taste of interior decoration left a lot to be desired!'

They both laughed at that.

The kettle whistled, and Andromeda got up to prepare the tea. While she took the china out of the cupboard, she asked, 'You wanted to talk with me about something, Harry?'

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'I got married two days ago.'

The cup Andy held in her hand fell to the ground and shattered into little shards. Harry automatically held out his hand to cast a silent and wandless ' _Reparo_!' and then _Summoned_ the cup to the table.

'Thank you,' Andy said reflexively. She took her time to put another cup for herself, sugar, biscuits and the teapot onto the table, and then sat down. While she poured the tea, she said, 'You'd better tell me everything from the beginning. Since you told me you broke up with Ginny, I guess you married someone else. That is very surprising. I didn't know you were seeing other girls while you were together with Ginny.'

'I wasn't,' Harry replied. He took a sip of tea to fortify himself and then told her the story how he met Greengrass and ended up married with her. He also told her about their agreement to make their marriage work and the measures they planned to prevent ugly stories being spread about them.

Andy listened to his story without interrupting him once. 'Oh dear, you never do anything half-ways, do you, Harry?' she sighed when he had finished his story. She reached with her hand over the table and grasped his. 'Yes, you've messed up, but I'm relieved to see that you and your wife already discovered that it is up to you if you'll be utterly miserable because of that for the rest of your life.' She squeezed his hand gently and then let it go. 'So, Cyrus Greengrass' daughter? You could have done worse. She's from good stock. Her family never was in the Pureblood Supremacy movement. They always were more interested in their business and kept good connections with both sides.'

She leaned back in her seat and gave Harry a thoughtful look. 'Listen, Harry, you said you are amazed how calmly your wife deals with the situation. Well, it's what she's been raised for. She grew up with the expectation that someday she'd have to marry a man her parents chose for her. There was no guarantee she knew that man before or might not find him repulsive. It's been ingrained into her that it's most important to please her husband, so she'll make it easy for you. All I ask of you is that you'll be as thoughtful. After all, there must have been an attraction between the two of you, or you wouldn't have run off like that. So, I'm not asking you to do something impossible.'

Harry blushed while he ran a hand through his already messy hair once again. Andromeda was right, he felt attracted to Greengrass, and he was sure that attraction was mutual. 'Yeah, I guess it's only fair that I also try. What worries me most at the moment is what will happen when our story comes out in the open. Greengrass thinks it's only a matter of time. I'm not sure if the measures we agreed on will help to prevent the gossip.'

'Not completely, but it'll take the sting out of it. But, Harry, please stop calling your wife Greengrass. Call her Daphne, or "dear" or maybe even "love", if you can, or everybody will know that you're faking your relationship.'

Harry grimaced, but nodded his agreement. He had to admit that Andy's advice was sound, though he couldn't imagine that he would ever call Gr... - Daphne "love".

Andy took another sip of tea and put her cup back onto the saucer. 'Also, you might look in your family vault for engagement rings given to the women of your family. Nothing will announce your commitment to your wife more clearly to the Wizarding world than giving her a family heirloom. Also, you might consider to take your wife on a honeymoon, as it is custom. It will help both of you to get to know each other, and following conventions will also indicate that there's nothing unusual about your marriage.'

'That's a good idea!' Harry's face brightened. 'I'll do that immediately.'

He emptied his cup and stood up.

Andy followed him out of the kitchen and watched how he put Teddy back in his pram. 'Will you come Saturday for your usual time with Teddy?'

'Yes, definitely,' he nodded while he covered the little boy with a soft blanket.

'Bring Daphne along,' Andy suggested.

Harry smiled. 'I'd love to. Thanks, Andy!'

He gave his godson a kiss on his soft cheek, hugged Andy and soon was on his way back to Grimmauld Place.

He sat down at the kitchen table and pulled the ledger Director Ragnok had given him out of his Moke skin pouch. He leafed through the ledger. It seemed to be self-updating and was subdivided into different categories. "Real Estate", he read, "Shares" was another one, but there was also a "List of House Elves" and finally the one he was looking for – "Potter Family Vault – Table of Contents". This one also was subdivided into categories. "Family Papers and Grimoires" – Harry made a mental note to have a look at these as soon as possible – "Furniture", "Art and Paintings", and finally, "Jewellery".

He read the descriptions of the jewels held in his Family vault. Most of it came with short references to the Potters it had been given to or who had worn it as an heirloom. He looked for the engagement ring of his mother, but came up empty. Maybe it had been buried with her, he mused. But he found the engagement ring of his grandmother Euphemia.

He closed the ledger and soon was on his way to Gringotts. His little errand didn't take much time, and with the ring safely pocketed in his Moke skin pouch, he returned to Grimmauld Place to lunch with Kreacher.

 **MY**

After lunch, it occurred to him to have a look into their Banishing Box if there already was an answer to the letters he had written the previous evening. He opened the box with a tap of his wand and was surprised to find a stack of letters in it. On top of the letters was a note from the Goblins. He picked it up.

 _List of Howlers:_

 _Molly Weasley_

 _Ginevra Weasley_

Well, that wasn't surprising. After the short message he wrote to the Weasleys, announcing his marriage to Daphne, he had expected something like that.

But there were also short letters from Luna and Neville. Reading them, Harry had to laugh. His friend's reactions were exactly as he'd foreseen the night before.

Luna expressed her satisfaction that he had finally got rid of his infestation with Wrackspurts, but warned him while it had obviously done him good to listen to the song of the Blibbering Humdinger for the first time in his life, not to let it become the rule. She was willing to interview them for the Quibbler, but that had to be postponed, since she and her father were going to Scandinavia to search for the Crumple-horned Snorkack. ' _I remember your bride from school,'_ she wrote. _'She always helped me to find my things again when the Nargels took them away.'_ Harry smiled. The way she behaved towards Luna told him that his wife had a kind heart.

As he had thought the other night, Neville congratulated him on his marriage. Though he voiced his surprise, he was supportive. ' _Daphne is one of my many cousins. We often met on family reunions when we were children. I remember her as one of the quiet ones who was always willing to play with clumsy me. Give her my love, please. I'm sure both of you will be very happy together, your whirlwind romance notwithstanding.'_

A warm feeling spread in Harry's chest. At least two of his friend were supporting him. He could only hope that Ron and Hermione were as understanding. They had always been the first to criticise him, especially Hermione. While that was a good thing and kept him grounded, it was rather unfortunate in times like this when he needed unconditional support. Oh well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it, Harry thought and folded Neville's letter.

He shifted through the other letters in the box. They were apparently business letters addressed to him. He opened the latter and soon found himself immersed in a world that was definitely above him. The letters were from managers who looked after the multiple Potter holdings, Goblins as well as Muggles. The news of his nuptials had made the round among them, because they all congratulated him and expressed their delight that he had finally come into his heritage and would take up the reins.

Harry felt panic overcome him. He'd had no idea that the Potter holdings were that vast. He had not been prepared for that; how was he supposed to manage the family holdings without any knowledge of economics? He would d be lucky if he didn't bring his house to ruin within a couple of years, he thought with a hammering heart. Looking at the letters, he concluded he would have to make appointments with each of the managers, owe up to his ignorance and ask them to teach him what he should have learned from the cradle.

Maybe he should talk to Hermione when she returned. She was good at things like this. But Hermione wouldn't be back before the middle of August, he remembered. That was probably too late. Also, that pesky voice in the back of his head told him that he couldn't run with his problems any longer to Hermione, now that he was married and she was with Ron. He supposed Daphne would be angry if he didn't ask her for her opinion on anything pertaining to their future family. Silently he admitted to himself that she would have every right to be angry at him if he continued to run to Hermione with his problems. It wasn't exactly cheating on her, but very close to it.

He sighed and got up to get ink and parchment and then sat down to write letters to his managers, asking for an appointment.

He was still occupied with that task when Daphne returned from work.

'Hello,' she smiled and sat down on the bench beside him, kicking off her shoes and massaging her feet.

He looked up. 'Oh, hello. I didn't hear you coming into the room,' he smiled back and put down the quill. 'How was your day?'

'Exhausting,' she grimaced. 'These rich Muggle women are a pain in the behind. And my feet are killing me. How was your day?'

'Busy,' Harry told her while he got up to prepare some tea for them. 'I went to talk to Andy this morning ...'

'Andy?'

'Andromeda Tonks, the grandmother of my godson Teddy Lupin. She's become kind of a surrogate favourite aunt to me since the Battle. I wanted to tell her about our marriage in person and also ask her for advice,' he explained.

'Ah, I see. Was she very angry with you?' Daphne asked.

Harry carried two mugs of tea to the table and sat down again. Daphne's eyes went wide as he pushed one mug in front of her.

'Surprisingly not,' he replied. 'She told me to be considerate of you because you'd do everything to make it easy for me.'

'I already like her,' Daphne smiled and took a sip of tea.

'You'll probably like her even more when you hear her other suggestions,' Harry said, suddenly nervous. He pulled the small jewellery box out of his Moke skin pouch and held it out to her. 'She told me to give you this, Daphne.'

Her eyes grew wide as she looked first at the box in his hands and then at him. 'You're giving me one of the Potter family heirlooms?'

'Since you're now a Potter and the only family I have, I thought it fitting,' he replied, while he felt his cheeks grow uncomfortably hot.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 'Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.' She then took the box out of his hand and opened it. 'Wow!' she breathed.

On a bed of dark velvet was an oval cut sapphire on top of a white gold band and surrounded by diamonds.

'It was my grandmother's,' Harry said softly. 'I wanted to give you my mother's engagement ring, but it's not in the vault.' He picked up the ring and put it on Daphne's slender finger. It fit perfectly.

Their eyes met. As if drawn by an invisible force, Harry leaned forward until his lips touched hers. It was only a brief kiss, not much more than a peck, but it left both of them with pink cheeks and a tingling sensation on their lips. Harry wouldn't have minded a repetition, and maybe some more, but reminded him that there was more he had to tell her.

'Andy also suggested we'd go on a honeymoon, since it is custom and will therefor help silence the gossip mongers. She also thinks it'll help us to get to know each other.'

'Either that or we'll be ready to murder each other at the end of it and be done with this marriage,' Daphne deadpanned.

Harry was taken aback, but then he noticed the twitching corners of her mouth and burst out laughing. 'You've got a strange sense of humour,' he remarked.

'Slytherin style,' she nodded and took a sip of her tea. 'I learned to joke about everything, or I'd have gone round the bend in that house. But seriously, I think your honorary aunt had a good idea. Have you already decided where we will be going?'

'No, I thought we'd decide together.'

She grinned at him. 'Already heeding Andy's advice, aren't you?'

They were interrupted by Kreacher, who had _Apparated_ into the kitchen to prepare dinner and was overjoyed to see his mistress.

'That elf is completely enamoured with you,' he quipped under his breath.

'Jealous, Harry?' Daphne deadpanned, and Harry almost choked at his tea. She winked at him, the corners of her mouth twitching, and he shook his head.

While Kreacher prepared their dinner, they talked about possible honeymoon destinations. It didn't take them long to agree on a honeymoon on the Seychelles. But when Harry mentioned to go to the Ministry the next morning and obtain an International Portkey, Daphne disagreed.

'I'd rather book with a Muggle travel agency, Harry. If you go to the Ministry and buy International Portkeys for two, that'll make the rounds in no time.'

'You've got a point there!' he conceded. 'So, is next Sunday all right with you? Tomorrow we'll have to see your parents and I promised Andy to bring you with me on Saturday to get to know her and Teddy. Also, I have a couple of appointments scheduled with my managers the next four days.'

That was news to her, and he explained her about the letters he got from his managers and the reservations he had about his abilities to manage the Potter holdings properly.

'I know a little about the management of family holdings,' Daphne offered hesitantly. 'Not much, since I was only a girl and not educated like a male heir would have been. But you can't grow up in a wealthy family without learning one thing or the other, you know.' She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with her finger and blushed. 'What I mean to say, if you like I can go with you to these appointments. I've turned in my resignation today and don't have to go to work anymore. I have done lots of extra hours the previous week, so the boss said I can stay at home for the rest of the week.'

Harry's face lit up at that. He felt as if a weight had been taken from his shoulders. 'I'd really appreciate that, Daphne!' He pulled the ledger out of his Moke skin pouch and held it out to her. 'Also, I'd like you to have a look at this and explain it to me one of these days.'

She blushed as she took the ledger out of his hands. 'Thank you, Harry. It means a lot to me that you're willing to trust me with this.'

Not long after that, they decided to call it a day. Preparing to go to bed with Daphne didn't feel half as awkward as the previous day, Harry mused when he climbed into his bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 **MY**

The third day in a row Harry woke up with the smell of citrus and lavender in his nose.

' _I could get used to this'_ , he thought, snuggling closer to the warm body that was pressed against his. He opened his eyes and looked at his sleeping bride. A small smile played around her lips.

'I know that you're awake,' she murmured.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!' he said and tried to pull away from her, but she slung an arm around his waist and held him tight. 'Don't! This feels so nice,' she murmured sleepily.

Harry complied. She was right, snuggling up against each other felt nice, even though they were still almost complete strangers. But they were also bound together for the rest of their lives, he reminded himself. The sooner they could get over this awkward stage, the better for both of them.

He must have dozed off again, because the next time he woke up from Daphne pulling the duvet off of him.

'Get up, sleepyhead! We've got a lot to do today!'

He opened his eyes. She was already fully dressed in jeans and a simple white blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore no make-up.

'Slave driver!' he mock-grumbled and made his way into the bathroom, followed by Daphne's laughter.

She was reading the "Daily Prophet" and sipping her tea when he came down into the kitchen.

He had no idea why he did it, but he stepped behind her and dropped a kiss on her head before he sat down on the bench beside her. 'Any news about us in the _Profit_ yet?' he asked, deliberately mangling the name of the infamous Wizarding newspaper, while he poured himself a cup of tea.

'Thankfully not,' she replied. 'But that's only a matter of days, I guess.'

'I've been thinking,' he started, spooning some eggs on his plate.

'Be careful, thinking can be dangerous, Harry!' she quipped.

He narrowed her eyes at her, looking from the eggs on his plate to her face, and she laughed. She had a nice laugh, he decided. Soft and tinkling, like a brook gurgling over sun-kissed stones.

Reading his intentions, she giggled. 'All right, I'll keep my mouth shut! What have you on your mind, Harry?'

He gestured with his fork to the folded paper on the table. 'Maybe we can beat them to their bad press. We can put an announcement into the _Sunday Prophet_ that we were married in a private ceremony and are now off to a prolonged honeymoon.'

She put her cup down. 'That's actually an excellent idea, Harry!'

He puffed his chest, and she laughed again. 'Finish your breakfast, Harry, we have a lot to do today!'

'And what?' he asked and took another bite of his scrambled eggs.

'We've got to go to Diagon Alley and get your robes. Then we'll have to head into Muggle London. I've been through your wardrobe while you were still asleep this morning, Harry. There's no way you can go on a honeymoon with those rags. So, we need to do some shopping today.' She interrupted herself when she noticed him looking at her.

'Don't give me that look, Harry! Making sure your wardrobe is in order is one of the many things a woman does for her husband!'

He shook his head. 'No, that's all right. It's only – nobody ever cared about the state of my clothes,' he blurted out.

She put her hand on his and squeezed it softly. 'Oh Harry!'

An awkward silence spread between them. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and asked, 'Anything else on the agenda for today?'

She blushed, but nodded. 'Yes, we'll have to make the arrangements for our honeymoon.'

He took a last spoonful of eggs, wiped his mouth and got up. 'All right, wife. What are you waiting for?'

She threw her napkin at him and he chuckled.

 **MY**

Thirty minutes later they had picked up his new robes and were now on their way to Muggle London. Daphne flagged down a taxi, and soon they were on Oxford Street, where Daphne guided him to one of the big department stores. Harry had heard about these stores; Uncle Vernon Aunt Petunia used to go there to buy special items for their little Duddikins, but he had never thought he would be shopping for designer clothes for himself there.

'Uh – Daphne, aren't these shops rather expensive?' he asked.

She looked at him. 'Harry, have you ever looked at the balance of your personal vault in the ledger Director Ragnok gave you?'

Harry blushed. 'I forgot about it. There was so much going on...'

'Well, I had a brief look while you were in the shower this morning. By the present number of Galleons in your private vault, I can tell you you'll hardly make a dent in it even if you buy three complete wardrobes!'

Relieved, he followed his wife into the first department store.

'You need everything, Harry!' Daphne announced, and so they hit the underwear department first, much to Harry's embarrassment.

'Don't you think it's a little late for that?' Daphne smiled into his red face, and he had to laugh.

'You're right,' he admitted, and joined her in a discussion about the merits of boxers over briefs.

Daphne also added pyjamas, a bathrobe and socks to his purchase, and then they moved up to the "serious stuff", as Daphne mockingly called it.

Three hours later, a completely exhausted Harry emerged from the department store, now owning more clothes than he had ever thought possible. Daphne, however, still seemed to be fresh and full of energy.

Harry shook his head. 'What is it about women and shopping?'

'That's because in the Stone Age men were hunters and women gatherers,' Daphne claimed. 'It takes more endurance to walk for miles each day and gather fruits and whatnot than to hunt down the occasional animal. At least that's what Tracey always said,' she added in a soft voice.

He glanced at her and saw that her face had become a stony mask of grief again, so he put an arm around her and hugged her lightly to himself.

She looked up at him and smiled. 'Thank you, Harry, I needed that.'

He saw no reason to pull away his arm from her shoulder, so he kept it where it was. She slipped her arm around his waist, and so they went looking for a travel agency.

Since Daphne had travelled with the Davises Muggle style before, Harry left it up to her to make the arrangements, and she booked a secluded beach bungalow on a private island.

Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow when they left the agency. 'Isn't that a rather romantic spot?' he asked.

Laughing, Daphne linked arms with him. 'You said we need to get to know each other,' she reminded him. 'Can you think of a better place for that?'

'No, but I also can't think of a better place for you to get rid of my dead body,' he quipped. 'The tropic forest around the bungalow looks pretty dense, and I bet there are a few fish in the ocean below the terrace that won't deny a good snack offered to them.'

She grinned up at him. 'Then you'd better be very nice to me, Harry,' she purred, and he felt his face get hot.

 **MY**

Harry tugged irritably at the neckline of his robes of finest Acromantula silk. 'I feel like a ponce!' he complained.

Daphne sat at the dresser and gave the finishing touch to her make up. At his words, she turned around to him and eyed him critically. 'You look fine, Harry. Very handsome and noble and every inch the head of a wealthy house.'

'If you say so ...' he murmured. He still thought he looked like a ponce in dark blue robes with a silver-grey tunic beneath them. But Daphne had assured him that this was the latest fashion in Pureblood circles.

She stood up and stepped beside him. She had dressed to match him. Her robes were of a lighter shade of blue, but with trimmings in the same dark blue as his robes. Again, she wore her hair in an elegant bun at the back of her head.

'I like that look,' Harry remarked. 'You look very sophisticated!'

'Thank you, Harry!' she blushed.

She wore the ring he had given her the previous evening, and a pair of matching earrings Daphne had found in the inventory list as she read the ledger after they'd returned from their shopping trip, and she'd sent Kreacher to fetch them for her. Harry had to admit they looked fantastic on her.

They stepped out of the house and _Apparated_ to the front gate of the Greengrass estate, since Harry was not keyed into the wards and Daphne was not sure if she would still be able to _Apparate_ him in after she ran away from home.

A house elf opened the door. A broad grin spread over his wizened face when he recognised Daphne. 'Miss Daffy!' he gasped.

Daphne bent down and hugged the small creature. 'Tapsy! It's so good to see you again! Are you and Matty well?'

The elf wiped a tear from his face. 'Miss Daffy is too kind to require after a lowly house elf! Wes are both fine, Miss Daffy, thank you!' He let them into the house.

'Are my parents at home, Tapsy?' she asked while she led Harry down the hallway.

'Yes, Miss Daffy. Master is in his study and mistress is resting in her boudoir for tonight's party,' Tapsy replied.

'Please, ask my parents to meet me in the Blue Parlour,' Daphne ordered, and the small creature vanished with a CRACK. She opened a door to their right and led Harry into the room.

The tall French windows looked onto lush gardens. They were framed by blue satin curtains, a colour that was matched by the upholstery of the stiff looking gilded chairs in the room.

Daphne put her hand on Harry's arm and led him to the window, where she began to point out the layout of the gardens to him. They had rehearsed at Grimmauld Place how the meeting with her parents was probably going to be, and turned back to the rom, Daphne's hand still on Harry's arm, when the door opened.

Harry saw a middle aged couple standing opposite of them. The man was as tall as Harry, though he showed signs of a slight belly under his expensive robes, and his dark hair was greying at the temples. One look at his face told Harry from which parent Daphne had inherited her stunning eyes, although it was an unnerving experience to feel those eyes stare at him with cold indifference. The woman by his side came up till his ears. Looking at her, Harry could tell how Daphne would look in her late forties. Daphne was the spitting image of her mother, minus the eyes.

Daphne bowed her head. 'Good afternoon, father, mother. May I present my husband to you, Mr Harry James Potter.'

While Harry bowed slightly to her parents, as Daphne had instructed him, and greeted them politely, he had difficulties to keep the grin from his face. Both of Daphne's parents looked as if a troll had just clubbed them over the head. They looked at each other, obviously not knowing how they should deal with the situation.

Mrs Greengrass was the first to recover. She stepped to her daughter, a false smile plastered on her face. 'Now, that is quite the unexpected surprise. Let me offer you my heartfelt congratulations on your nuptials, my dear.' She hugged her daughter, but it looked stiff and cold.

She then turned to Harry and extended her Hand to him. 'Welcome to the family, Mr Potter!'

'Harry,' he corrected her and kissed the knuckles of her hand. Straightening, he said, 'I can see from which parent Daphne got her beauty, Mrs Greengrass!'

Mrs Greengrass looked flattered, as Daphne had foreseen. 'Oh, but you must call me Isabella!' she exclaimed. She put her hand on the arm of her husband. 'This is my husband Cyrus Greengrass, Harry.'

Mr Greengrass gave Harry a short nod. He didn't look as amiable as his wife. Just the contrary, the cold look he gave Harry would the latter probably have sent running for the hills, had Daphne not been with him and also warned him of the reaction of her father.

'May I ask when that happy event took place?' he asked his daughter. His demeanour betrayed that he was far from feeling any happiness about their union.

'Oh, last Saturday. Considering Harry's celebrity status, we didn't want to attract the press, so we decided to elope to Gretna Green,' Daphne smiled.

Mr Greengrass looked even angrier, if that was possible. 'That marriage has to be annulled, of course. You know that you are betrothed to Theodore Nott, Daphne!'

Daphne's stare matched his. 'You seem to forget that I was betrothed to Nott's brother, father. That contract was thankfully terminated when he was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, fighting for that abomination that was destroying our world. His death doesn't mean that I'm automatically betrothed to his younger brother. You'd need my consent for that, father, and I never gave it! Also, we made sue that an annulment is out of the question.'

'I gave Nott my word as your head of house that you'll sign the contract with him!' Cyrus Greengrass roared. 'You are a Greengrass, daughter, and you will obey your head of house or you'll regret it!' He stepped toward Daphne and raised his hand against her as if he was going to slap her.

Harry decided to step in. He sent a powerful silent and wandless _Stinging Hex_ at Mr Greengrass arm that made the older man yelp and jump away from his daughter. 'You are wrong, sir,' he stated calmly, his eyes throwing green daggers. 'It seems to me your daughter is a Potter now and no longer under your jurisdiction. As Head of House Potter I take exception to any assault on a member of my family. Please, bear that in mind with your further dealings with my wife.'

'You insolent whelp!' Cyrus Greengrass fumed and drew his wand.

Harry had anticipated this move and was ready. His silent _Stunner_ hit Daphne's father square in the chest.

The man fell like a tree under the axe. Mrs Greengrass let out a shriek, but Daphne, by now used to Harry's abilities, didn't bat an eyelid. A satisfied smile played around her lips.

Harry tied Greengrass in magical ropes, and then silently and wandlessly cast _'Enervate_!'

Mr Greengrass looked around with wild eyes and tried to get rid of the ropes. 'Unbind me, boy!' he demanded.

Harry kept a wary distance from his kicking legs. 'I don't think so, _sir_ ,' he drawled. 'At least not until you give your magical binding oath that you'll leave the House of Potter and each of its members in peace. That pertains especially to my wife.'

Mr Greengrass kicked and fumed for a few minutes more. His daughter watched, unmoved, and his wife obviously didn't dare to interfere.

'My mother was home schooled,' Daphne later explained to him. 'She's lousy at any magic, except Make-Up-Charms.'

Finally, Mr Greengrass gave in. 'All right, I agree. I'll give you the vow you demanded, Mr. Potter.'

The ropes immediately fell off and vanished.

Mr Greengrass slowly got to his feet, giving Harry a wary, but also very respectful look. Then he raised his wand in the air. 'I, Cyrus Albion Greengrass, swear upon my magic that from now on I will not harm the House of Potter or any of its members. This I swear, so mote it be!' A silvery mist engulfed him.

'Will that suffice?' he asked when the mist settled down.

Harry nodded. 'It will, sir.' He extended his hand. 'I'm honoured to meet Daphne's father.'

'The pleasure is all mine, Mr Potter,' Cyrus Greengrass replied and shook Harry's hand. 'But even though you just handed my arse on a silver platter to me, I still have my reservations in regards to your marriage.' He turned to Daphne. 'What the hell possessed you to run off without signing a proper betrothal agreement, daughter?'

Isabella interfered. 'Why don't we all take a seat and talk about this in a civilised manner?' she asked and ushered them to the gilded chairs.

The chairs were as uncomfortable as they looked, Harry noted when he sat down beside Daphne.

'Your fears are unfounded, father,' Daphne said. 'The Potter Family Charter offers me more freedom than the despicable agreement you contracted with the Nott family when I was four and which the current Head of House Nott obviously blackmailed you to revive without my consent.'

'Besides that, I already offered Daphne to make an additional agreement if there's anything she wants and the Potter Family Charter doesn't cover,' Harry added.

Cyrus Greengrass looked from Daphne to Harry. 'Is that so?' he asked. 'Well, in that case I'll instruct our family lawyer and...'

'Thank you, sir, but that will not be necessary,' Harry interjected. 'Daphne will be aided by a lawyer of her own choice in any additional agreement she wants to make.'

That stole Cyrus Greengrass' thunder. 'I only have your best interest at heart, daughter,' he asserted.

Daphne snorted. 'You mean the best interest of your coffers, father,' she corrected him.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, that was broken by Isabella.

'Where will you live?' she asked.

Daphne smiled and took Harry's hand. 'Harry inherited his godfather's estate. Part of it was a house in London. It's in dire need of a thorough renovation, but I'm sure we can turn it into a very pleasant home.'

Isabella turned to Harry. 'How interesting! Where in London is your house, Harry?'

Harry gave her a polite smile. 'Sorry, but I won't tell you. Due to the continued threats of uncaptured Death Eaters I still live under a Fidelius Charm. I am my own Secret Keeper. Only very few people except Daphne and I know where we live, and those are people I have known for a long time and whom I trust implicitly.' His tone indicated that Daphne's parents didn't belong to that circle.

Isabella took the slight without batting an eyelid. She turned to Daphne. 'Will you allow me to host a ball to honour your nuptials, my dear?'

Daphne smiled demurely. 'Harry and I will be honoured, mother.'

Isabella clapped her hands. 'Then that's settled. Would the 25th of July suit you?'

Harry cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry, Isabella. Daphne and I will leave London for an extended honeymoon on Sunday and will not return before the 26th.'

'Oh, how lovely!' Isabella exclaimed. 'Where will you be going? Paris?'

'No, we rented a villa on a private island of the Seychelles,' Harry explained.

Daphne's parents looked perplexed. 'Seychelles? Where is that? I never heard of such a place,' Cyrus Greengrass exclaimed.

'The Seychelles are a chain of islands in the Indian Ocean, east of Africa,' Harry said, once again flabbergasted by the ignorance of most wizards and witches.

'You mean, near India? Why in the world will you want to go there? And how will you get there?' Isabella frowned.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a smile. 'It's supposed to be very romantic, mother. Not to mention sunny and warm. We'll be going there by plane.'

'A Muggle plane? How - unconventional!' Isabella said, exchanging a worried glance with her husband.

They made some more small talk and finally agreed on the first of August for the planned ball. Daphne asked about her younger sister Astoria and learned to her dismay that she was visiting with one of her friends from school.

Finally they could take their leave without seeming to be impolite, much to Harry's relieve. He let out a big sigh the moment they stepped out of the Greengrass' wards to _Apparate_ back to Grimmauld Place.

They were barely outside of the wards when Daphne threw herself at Harry and almost squeezed the stuffing out of him. 'Thank you for standing up for me, Harry!' she exclaimed and kissed him full on the lips.

'Uh – you're welcome,' Harry replied, blushing. He took her arm and _Apparated_ them back to Grimmauld Place. In silent agreement they both walked up to their room to get out of the stiff robes and change into something comfortable.

Harry took a jeans and a t-shirt out of Sirius' old wardrobe that now stored his and Daphne's clothes, noticing that it had become rather crammed after his shopping spree that morning. He took his clothes and went into the bathroom to change. When he returned to their room to put away his silk robes, he saw that Daphne huddled in a corner of the small sofa. He walked over and sat down beside her.

'I must apologise for my parents, Harry,' she said without looking up.

He shrugged. 'It's uncanny how well you predicted their reaction, Daphne.'

'My mother was always a social snob. I knew she'd come around as soon as she realised who I had married. However, I'm pleased that she offered host a ball in our honour. I wasn't sure she'd do it, considering that we eloped to Gretna Green. That ball will do a lot to diffuse the gossip.' She looked up and smiled briefly at Harry. Then her shoulders sagged.

'My father on the other hand ... I was always an article of merchandise for him. He's furious that I spoiled his bargain with the Notts. I don't want to know what he'd have done to me, had you not been there today. So, thanks again for standing up for me, Harry.'

'You are my wife. You can rightfully demand that I stand up for you,' he replied and pushed a strand of her hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

 **MY**

The next four days were busy for Harry and Daphne. Harry's meetings with his managers started, and as she had promised him, Daphne accompanied him. At the end of the meetings Harry's head spun, but he felt as if he had learned a lot about his family. However, the meetings had only confirmed his suspicion that he still had to learn a lot until he could be a responsible and successful head of house and manage his family's affaires.

Daphne had begged one morning off. When she returned for lunch, almost breaking down under the weight of the numerous shopping bags she carried, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone brightly. However, she refused to tell him what she had been shopping and chased him away with a well-placed mild _Stinging Hex_ when he tried to peek into one of the bags.

'Ouch!' he moaned and rubbed his behind. 'I'd never have thought you belong to those wives who abuse their husbands!'

'Crybaby!' she mocked. 'By the way, that's not called abuse, but proper training of new husbands!'

He narrowed his eyes at her and made one step towards her.

Laughing, she gathered her bags and fled up to their room.

 **MY**

Saturday came sooner than they would have thought. In the morning, Daphne packed the suitcases for both of them. Harry made an attempt to help her, but she shooed him away when she discovered that he had put his shoes on top of the pile of freshly ironed shirts.

In the afternoon, they visited Andy and Teddy.

Harry could feel Daphne's nervousness when he _Side-Along-Apparated_ her to Andy's backyard. He took her hand when they walked up to the door. 'Don't worry, Daphne. Andy's great. She knows everything about us and I'm sure she won't give you a hard time about it. And Teddy's just the sweetest baby you can imagine.'

He knocked on the door that was opened by Andy seconds later.

'Hello Harry!' She then turned to Daphne. 'And you must be Daphne! Nice to meet you. I guess we'll be going to see quite a lot of each other, so there's no need to be formal. Call me Andy, please!'

'Nice to meet you, too, Andy. Harry speaks very highly of you,' Daphne replied, blushing, and shook Andromeda's hand.

'Does he, indeed?' Andy asked and stepped aside to let them into the house. She led them to the living room, all the while exchanging pleasantries with Daphne.

Teddy lay in his pram, quietly playing with his fingers.

'Here's the most precious baby in the world. Let me introduce you to my grandson Edward Remus Lupin. But we call him Teddy.'

Daphne bent over the pram. At the sight of the unfamiliar face the infant frowned. For a second, it seemed as if Teddy was about to burst out into tears, but when Daphne tickled his tummy and said, 'Hello Teddy! It's great to finally meet you. Your godfather told me so much about you!' the little boy broke out into a delighted toothless giggle.

'You can take him out of the pram,' Andromeda encouraged her.

With a cautiousness that betrayed her inexperience in dealing with infants, Daphne gathered the little boy in her arms, instinctively supporting his little head with one hand, and hugged him to her chest. Teddy snuggled up to her, gurgling happily, and his tuft of hair changed colours in quick succession.

'Oh, he's a Metamorphmagus!' Daphne exclaimed. 'You are a very special boy,' she told the infant on her arm and dropped a kiss on his silky hair.

Harry and Andromeda shared a smile.

Daphne looked up. 'You said his last name is Lupin. Is he related to Professor Lupin?'

'He was his father,' Harry explained and stepped beside Daphne to tickle his godson's cheek. 'He was a close friend of my parents and married Andy's only daughter, who also was a friend of mine. Teddy's parents were both killed at the Battle of Hogwarts.'

'I'm sorry, Andy!' Daphne said softly.

Andy smiled at her, though she wiped a tear from her eye. 'I won't deny that it's hard to lose your only child. But I still have Teddy, and I got Harry out of it. He's been a great help, and Teddy adores him.'

Daphne looked up and smiled at her husband. 'That I can believe easily! Harry is nothing but considerate!'

Harry blushed at her praise. His blush became even harder when Andromeda said, 'That's right. You've found a good husband, Daphne;' and Daphne simply answered, 'I know.'

They followed Andy into the kitchen. It was time for Teddy's bottle, but when Harry tried to take his godson out of Daphne's arms to feed him, the baby put up a fuss.

'It seems I've just been replaced as Teddy's favourite person,' Harry laughed and handed his wife the bottle. 'Here, let me show you how to feed him.'

But there wasn't really much he had to teach her. Daphne seemed to be a natural with Teddy, and her initial cautiousness soon was replaced with quiet confidence. She gave Teddy his bottle, let him burp at her shoulder and didn't even flinch when Teddy spit some barely ingested milk on her dress. Under Andy's tutelage she changed his nappies and then put him back into his pram for his afternoon nap. 'Sleep well, angel,' she whispered and kissed him on the forehead.

Harry hadn't once the chance to hold his godson that afternoon, but he didn't mind. He watched in fascination how his wife cared for the little boy. She seemed to be completely enamoured with him, he thought and let out a sigh of relief. For some reason he never understood, Ginny hadn't liked to spend time with Teddy. She would have come along if he asked her, but she always took the earliest opportunity to leave and made him come with her. It was good to know that there wouldn't be any objections coming from Daphne against him spending time with his godson. Just the contrary, he thought with a chuckle, it seemed as if they would soon be fighting over Teddy's attention.

They had tea with Andromeda. 'How are your plans for the rest of the summer?' Andy asked, offering Daphne a plate with sandwiches.

Daphne blushed as she took one. 'We'll be leaving for our honeymoon tomorrow.'

'We followed your advice and decided we needed some time alone to get to know each other,' Harry added, and gave Daphne a brief smile.

'I'm happy about that,' Andromeda admitted and put the plate down on the table. 'Though, from what I saw of you this afternoon, I have no doubt that you'll manage to make your marriage work.'

Daphne and Harry exchanged a look and blushed.

t.b.c.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Everything brlongs to J.K.R.

 **MY**

Their plane was scheduled to depart from Heathrow in the afternoon, so they took it slow the next morning.

When they came down for a late breakfast, the _Sunday Prophet_ had already been delivered, and Kreacher had put the copy beside Harry's plate. Harry picked up the paper and leafed through it until he came to the section with the engagement and wedding announcements. They had kept it simple and very formal. Thankfully, at Daphne's request, Isabella Greengrass had agreed to send the announcement to the newspaper, since the Greengrasses were also hosting the ball in honour of the newlyweds.

 _Mr and Mrs Cyrus Greengrass are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter_

 _Daphne Isabella Greengrass_

 _to_

 _Mr Harry James Potter,_

 _Son of late Mr and Mrs James Potter, on the 27th of June in a private ceremony. A celebratory reception is planned for the 1st of August at Lovelace House, Kent._

Daphne leaned against him, reading over his shoulder. She sighed. 'So, the cat is out of the bag now. Let the shit-storm happen!'

He reached up and patted her hand she had put on his shoulder. 'Don't worry. You're not alone in this. Partners, remember?'

She gave him a brief hug and then sat down beside him. 'You are one to talk! You are the Boy-Who-Lived and The-Saviour-of-the-Light, so you're used to see your name in the newspapers. But I'm new to this stuff, and it doesn't help that every witch in Britain will hate me because I snatched away the Most Eligible Bachelor of 1998!'

He snorted. 'You forgot to mention that you fed me Love Potions to get your wicked way with me, kitty.' He had begun calling her that, because Daphne's unconscious habit to drift to the warmest spot in the bed had inevitably led to them waking up snuggled up against each other every morning since their wedding. Not that he complained about that. Though there had not (yet) been a repetition of their wedding night, the early mornings had led to one or two pleasant snogs.

Daphne hated her new nickname, and promptly elbowed him in the side. Of course, that was reason enough for him to call her by her new name at every possible opportunity.

He put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her briefly. 'That I'm used to see my name in the newspaper doesn't mean that it will be easy for me. But I also know that the storm will eventually die down.'

She seemed to be comforted, and they turned to their breakfast. After breakfast they said good bye to Kreacher and then took a cab to the airport.

Thankfully, the plane departed on time. Knowing they had about ten hours ahead for the first leg of their trip, they had agreed to splurge on tickets for business class. Harry had never before in his life been on a plane, but when he caught a glimpse of the economy class when they boarded the plane, he was thankful for the upgrade and the room it afforded for his long legs. He made himself comfortable in his seat, and then at Daphne's request cast a silent Anti-Listening-Charm, so that they could talk openly without the Muggles listening in.

In contrary to him, Daphne had travelled by plane frequently with the Davises. 'Mrs Davis had a brother who lived in the USA. They used to spend at least two weeks with him and his family, and always took me with them, and of course we'd always travel by plane, since Tracey's parents were Muggles,' she explained when they settled down in their seats.

'You miss them terribly, don't you?' Harry asked quietly.

Daphne surreptitiously wiped away a tear. 'Yes, I do. I always said they were my real family.'

He grasped her hand and squeezed it. He knew exactly what she meant. He had also felt more at home with the Weasleys than he ever did with his own family. Oddly enough, they had also both lost their surrogate families.

In silent thanks for the comfort he provided, Daphne interlaced her fingers with his. They were still holding hands when the plane took off and steadily gathered height. Harry marvelled how far they had come in getting comfortable with each other after only one week into their unintentional marriage. Of course, it had helped that they had spent most of the time in close proximity. Both of them had been considerate of their respective feelings, and whenever there had been an awkward moment, one of them -usually Daphne – had made a drastic remark that allowed them to laugh the awkwardness away.

The plane finally reached travelling height. Daphne gently pulled away her hand and took a book out of her backpack. She held it out to Harry. 'Do you like to read a bit?'

He looked at her with surprise, but took the book out of her hands. 'Thanks! I think I never read a book for pleasure in my whole life, except _Qudditch through the Ages_.'

'You didn't?' she asked while she pulled a book for herself out of the backpack. 'You don't know what you've missed, Harry. Tracey introduced me to Muggle literature. I love mysteries, though not the hard ones, and historical novels. I thought Granger would have done the same to you and Weasley, considering she was hardly seen without a book under her nose at school.'

Harry turned the mystery novel she had given him in his hands. 'I think I've never seen Hermione reading a novel,' he replied. 'She always read textbooks, and expected that Ron and I'd follow her example. Unfortunately, I never found them appealing. My relatives didn't read at all. I doubt they had a single book at their house, except for my and Dudley's school books. And I've never seen any novels when I shopped in Diagon Alley.'

'That's because there aren't any,' Daphne replied. She snuggled up against him and opened her book.

He raised his eyebrows. 'I hope you're comfortable, my dear,' he mock-drawled.

She looked up to him and gave him an impish smile. 'Very!'

He shook his head at her antics and also opened his book. Soon he was lost in the _Mysterious Affair at Styles_ and didn't put the book down before the stewardess served them dinner.

'Did you enjoy your book?' Daphne asked while she cut her meat.

'Yes, thank you for recommending it! I'd never have thought that reading can be so much fun,' he replied.

Daphne chuckled.

'What's so funny about that?' he asked and took a sip of his drink.

'I just wondered if it was wise to give you a book about a supposed murder of a spouse,' she grinned, and Harry almost choked at his drink.

'You are impossible!' he laughed. 'Keep it up and it will be your body that's hidden in the tropical forest!'

'That's what I'm afraid of,' she deadpanned and took another bite.

 **MY**

They had to transfer to another plane in Abu Dhabi in the middle of the night. At least their business class tickets enabled them to use the comfortable lounge of the airline. Harry sat down in the corner of a sofa, and Daphne snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder. She was asleep the next minute. Harry however stayed wide awake. His year on the run still was too fresh on his mind. It was impossible for him to get a wink of sleep here. He felt too vulnerable out in the open and didn't dare to cast the Protection Charms they had used on the run in a high technology Muggle area. _'Merlin only knew what these complex charms will do to the numerous computer systems at the airport,'_ he thought with a wry grin.

Finally, their next flight was announced. He gently shook Daphne by the shoulder. 'Wake up, kitty!'

'What?' she mumbled sleepily, but got up from the sofa and gathered her backpack. Yawning, she trudged beside him until they reached their seats on the plane. She slumped down in her seat, and Harry stowed their backpacks away and then helped Daphne, who was half-asleep, fasten her seat belt. The moment he sat down beside her, her head dropped on his shoulder and she was fast asleep again.

She stayed asleep during the whole flight and only started to stir when the captain announced their impending arrival at Seychelles International Airport. 'Did I miss something?' she asked.

'Only the most amazing sunrise over the ocean' Harry laughed. 'I've never seen someone sleeping as soundly as you do, not even Ron!'

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave him a haughty stare, though the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards. 'I just need my beauty sleep!' she defended herself.

Thirty minutes later, their plane had landed and they had passed customs. A staff member of the vacation resort was already waiting for them. He drove them from the airport to a private marina where he ushered them on a motor boat for the last leg of their trip.

Harry and Daphne sat down in the stern of the boat. Daphne immediately snuggled up to him and draped his arm around her shoulders. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

'Newlyweds,' she reminded him under the cover of the noise of the boat. 'You're supposed to do that.'

'Hmm, I remember you only mentioned hand kisses and pecks on the cheek in my job description as your happy husband,' he whispered in her ear. 'But I'll keep this in mind. Phew, and here I thought you were making a move on me.'

'Oh – that too!' she replied coolly, her grin almost splitting her face into halves when Harry got a coughing fit.

 **MY**

It was already mid-morning when they reached their destination. They had been served a delicious breakfast on the boat, but by then Harry had been awake for more than twenty-four hours and was too tired to appreciate it.

The villa they had rented was on a small headland, not more than a rock that jutted out into the ocean. An electric golf cart brought them from the small island marina to the hidden entrance of the villa that could be reached through a broad strip of tropical forest. From the outside, the villa didn't look like much. On the inside, however, it turned out to be one of a kind.

The house opened up to the ocean, letting in the warm breeze. Built on several levels, the living quarters seamlessly blended into huge wooden decks that were invitingly furnished with chairs, cushions and sofas. The decks eventually led down to a small, private beach that was enclosed by rocks at both sides of the house. A private pool wrapped around one side of the house, perched on a rock above the ocean and offering stunning views.

Harry, however, had no energy left to appreciate the beauty of the place. While Daphne talked to the staff member who brought their luggage, he walked out onto the upmost deck. It was pleasantly airy there. A couple of trees and an awning provided shade. He slumped down onto an inviting looking sofa with many cushions and leaned back. The breeze caressed his cheeks, and he closed his eyes. The next second he was sound asleep.

 **MY**

He woke up with a start and looked around. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. Judging by the position of the sun, it couldn't have been that long. He stood up and stretched. Daphne was nowhere to be seen, but he heard the soft splashing of water from inside the house, so he ambled back into the house.

Inside, the rooms also seamlessly blended into one another. Harry found himself in what he supposed was the living room. A huge lounge sofa and a couple of low chairs and tables furnished the spacious room. Ahead of him, on another level, was a kitchen and dining area. To his left, the living room blended into a bedroom with a king-sized four poster bed. Beyond that, the bedroom seamlessly blended into a bathroom. Harry could see part of a huge bathtub and a massage bed.

While he still marvelled at the luxury of the place, the sound of splashing water stopped. The next second Daphne turned around a corner, grabbing for a towel from the shelf that partly hid the shower.

Turning a violent shade of red, Harry made a hasty retreat onto the deck. Daphne's laughter followed him.

A few minutes later she came out onto the deck, now dressed in a thin bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. Harry didn't dare look at her, and Daphne chuckled.

'No need to be embarrassed, Harry. To get over that is exactly the point of this honeymoon. Apart from that, you've seen it all before!'

He rubbed his neck. It felt sweaty and itchy. 'Yeah, I know. Nevertheless I still need some time to get used to it, I suppose.'

Daphne leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 'Go, take a shower, Harry. You'll feel better after that.' Reading the suspicious look he gave her, she laughed. 'I promise not to peek and to respect your virtue – or whatever is left of that,' she added with a wink.

He grabbed one of the cushions and threw it at her. 'Minx!' he smiled, but got up and went into the house.

 **MY**

' _Daphne was right,_ ' he thought when he returned to the deck half an hour later. He felt refreshed and awake after the shower. He had also exchanged his customary jeans for some light linen slacks and shirt Daphne had insisted to buy. Considering the high humidity on the island, he now understood why.

Daphne waited for him under the awning. She had dressed into a loose aqua-coloured tunic and pulled her hair back into a low pony tail.

'I've ordered us some lunch,' she said, indicating with her hand to a spread of cold meats, bread, fruits and cheese on the table in front of her. There were also pitchers with water and juice.

A grumble from Harry's stomach reminded him that he had hardly eaten anything for breakfast. He sat down beside her and pulled her towards him with his arm. 'Thank you, Daphne, you're a life saver!' he said and gave her a peck on the lips.

While they had lunch, they decided to take it easy for the rest of the day and get used to the climate.

After lunch and when a staff member had cleared the table, Daphne settled down with a book in a corner of the comfortable sofa. Harry, however, went down to the beach and had a look around. The open layout of the house troubled him, he admitted to himself. The staff had assured them that there was no need to close the shutters at night, because the private beach could only be reached from sea and it didn't get considerably colder at night. Though that sounded compelling, the thought to be that vulnerable and in the open while he slept made Harry break out in cold sweat.

The staff had been right, he determined, walking out on the small strip of pristine white sand. The layout of the place promised absolute privacy. With a satisfied smile he wandlessly cast the Protection Charms that had guaranteed his safety during his time on the run on the small beach. Relieved that no danger could harm them from that side, he returned to the house and put a couple of Alarm Spells on the back side of the house. Protecting it the same way as the beach would be of no use, he'd remembered in the last minute, because the staff still needed to find them.

Daphne looked up from her book when he returned to her. 'What have you been up to?' she asked. Her face got troubled when he explained. 'Sorry, Harry, I had no idea you'd feel this way about this place, or I'd never have suggested it! You should have warned me!'

He took her hand and pressed it lightly. 'It's all right, Daphne. Until today I had no idea I'd react like that. I thought I'd left all bad memories about the time on the run behind me. Obviously, I was wrong. I feel much safer now, after I've cast the Protection Charms.'

She gave him a thoughtful look. 'Do you think it will always be like that with you? That you'll feel vulnerable in the open?'

'I hope not,' Harry sighed and rubbed his face with the palms of his hand. 'That will be pretty embarrassing when I'm at Auror School' He kept his hands on his face.

He heard the rustle of her dress beside him, and then he felt how her arms wrapped around him and held him close. He leaned into her embrace, letting the comfort she gave him wash over him.

 **MY**

They spent the afternoon reading and talking - and in Harry's case napping - in the shade of the trees that surrounded the decks. Used to the long summer days in the northern hemisphere, they were caught by surprise by the early sunset. Thus they sat down for the dinner they had ordered to their villa by candlelight.

They exchanged a look over the table.

'I'm missing the little cupids throwing confetti in my hair and on my plate,' Harry deadpanned.

'Oh, so you'll be taking me for tea to Madam Puddifoot's for our first Valentine's Day?' Daphne asked in the same manner.

'If that's your heart's desire, my dear, I will.'

Their eyes met and they burst out laughing.

While they had their dinner, they made plans for the next day. Even though the resort was very secluded, there still was a lot to do, and they decided to try out most of the offered activities.

After diner, they took a walk on their private beach. The staff had lit a campfire between a couple of rocks on the beach when darkness fell, and they sat down on the cushions that were scattered around the fireplace. Daphne leaned her back against Harry's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, marvelling how natural it felt to hold her like this.

She looked up to him, smiling invitingly, and he bent down until their lips met.

They had kissed before during the days that followed their hasty marriage, but they still had felt so awkward around one another that they both had been wary not to be taken away. This kiss, however, soon turned into something passionate that left them both breathless when they finally broke apart.

Daphne got up to her feet and held her hand out to him. Hand in hand, they walked back to the house.

MY

The next morning found Harry sitting on the upmost deck, sipping a mug of tea, when two arms slid around his necks from behind and soft lips pressed against his cheek.

'I missed you!' Daphne murmured. 'I've got used to cuddle with you in the morning.'

Harry turned his head and kissed her softly on the lips. 'Good morning, kitty!'

Daphne gave him a playful slap on the shoulder, but walked around his chair and sat down in his lap. She wore a short kimono-style dressing gown of powder-blue satin, trimmed with lace.

Harry slid his arms around her slim waist. 'Nice,' he said, looking at her appreciatively. 'Blue suits you.'

'Thank you,' Daphne replied. 'There's also a matching nightgown I planned to wear last night, but somehow it never came to that.'

Their foreheads touched and they both chuckled quietly.

'What a pity,' Harry finally said. 'Maybe you can show it to me another day?' He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

'Maybe,' Daphne smiled. She slid one arm around his neck and with her other hand she took his mug and took a sip.

'I can get you another mug of tea, you know.'

'I know, but it's much nicer this way,' she replied and kissed him.

Harry returned her kiss that soon became heated. When they finally broke off the kiss, they both panted.

Daphne leaned her forehead against his. Blue eyes smiled into green. 'You're addictive, Mr Potter!'

Harry tightened his embrace. 'And so are you, Mrs Potter.'

'Not that I am complaining,' Daphne added and gave him another kiss.

'Neither am I,' Harry replied when they came up for air.

They smiled, both amazed at the attraction they felt for each other.

' _Though there was a strong physical attraction right from the beginning,'_ Harry mused to himself. _'Otherwise we'd not have ended up in my bed the night we talked with each other for the first time in seven years.'_ Well, this sure would make it easier to pull off the illusion of the happy newlyweds.

 **MY**

After breakfast they discovered the bicycles that came with the house.

'Cool!' Harry exclaimed. 'I always wanted to ride a bike!'

'But didn't you learn how to ride a bike when you were a kid? I thought most Muggles do,' Daphne asked. 'I learned how to ride a bike at Tracey's home.'

Harry slid his hand over the saddle of the bike. 'Unfortunately, I didn't have an upbringing like most Muggle kids. My cousin had a top-of-the-range racing bike which he hardly ever rode because he was so fat. But heaven forbid that I ever tried to touch that bike!'

Daphne's eyes got dark, and she slid her arms around Harry's waist. 'Well, it's never too late to learn a new skill. Come on, I'll show you!'

Within the next hour Daphne showed Harry how to ride a bike. He found out that his excellent sense of balance, honed during many hours of Quidditch, helped immensely, though it was a bit tricky to steer and pedal simultaneously.

Their first trip lead them on a well maintained path around the small island. It was a pleasant ride in the shade of the tropical trees. However, when Harry got off the bike, Daphne laughed out loud.

'You walk like a cowboy after a day in the saddle! Have you never heard of Cushioning Charms, Harry?'

He mock-glared at her over his shoulder.

Still laughing, she caught up with him, pinched his buttock and then spurted towards the house, Harry hot on her heels.

He finally caught her in the living room. All his plans for retaliation were forgotten, however, when she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him until he got weak in the knees and they collapsed onto the sofa.

Their pleasant occupation was interrupted by a strange buzzing sound.

'That's the Banishing Box,' Harry sighed as he pulled away from Daphne. 'Do I really want to know what's in it?'

'No,' Daphne replied. 'But it's of no use to put off the inevitable. We didn't think to check our mail the last two days, so it's high time we do it now.'

'You know, kitty, there is something of a slave master about you,' Harry mused when he got up to get the box.

Daphne threw a cushion after him and he laughed.

He returned with a stack of letters and papers. On top of it were two notes from the Goblins, one for Harry and one for Daphne.

Harry looked at his note. It was a list of Howlers, and it was rather long. One glance on the list told him that he knew not one single name on it. He looked over to Daphne. 'I've got a pretty impressing list of people who sent Howlers to me. You, too?'

She looked up from the sheet of parchment she held in her hand. Her eyes were troubled. 'I'd never have thought there are people like this out there. I mean ... all these Howlers, that's so much hate. What are they thinking?'

Harry ran a hand through his hair. 'I doubt they're thinking at all. Sorry, kitty, that comes from being married to me. These people have preconceived notions about how I'm supposed to be and with whom I'm supposed to be. You don't fit in their view, so they lash out at you. I'm sorry you have to go through this because of me.'

'Stop it at once, Harry!' she snapped.

He looked up from the stack of letters he was just perusing, right into her glaring eyes. 'Uh – Daphne?' He had no idea why she was suddenly angry at him.

She jumped up from the sofa. 'Nothing of this is your fault, Harry. You didn't ask these idiots to send the Howlers. It's also not your fault that they live in a dream world and think of you as the Larger-Than-Live-Knight-in-Shining-Armour-Fucking-Boy-Who-Lived-and-Chosen-One-Who-Finished-off-Voldemort. It's also not your fault that they've the gall to think they can tell you how to live your life and think they can be as rude about that as they like!' Her breasts heaved. She had put her hands on her hips and her eyes were glaring blue daggers at him.

Harry gaped at her, then he broke out in bewildered laughter. 'I think you just broke the record in giving me the name with the most number of hyphens, Daphne.'

She hissed. 'This is not a laughing matter, Harry!'

He shrugged. 'I've learned to think about it that way. There's no use to let them get at you, you know. It'll only make you miserable. I've learned that lesson during the Triwizard Tournament and during fifth year. You can't do anything against them so you'd better ignore them.'

Her anger vanished as quickly as it had come. The list fell out of her hands, and she ran toward him and flung her arms around him. In spite of her slender form she was amazingly strong. She pulled away slightly and looked up to him. 'That's where you're wrong, Harry. There's a reason why the Goblins made a list of the names of those who sent you a Howler. A Howler, while tolerated when it comes from parents to their misbehaving children, is in any other case considered a violation of your personal honour. The Auror Office doesn't deal with them because they cause no physical harm. You've got to deal with them yourself, Harry, and there are several ways to do so.'

He looked down at her with a puzzled frown. 'Huh? I had no idea!'

She smiled at him, though her smile was sad. 'I know, Harry. I could see during this last week how little you know about our world. Did nobody ever teach you?'

'My parents died when I was too young to remember them. My godfather spent the next twelve years in Azkaban, and then two years on the run or in hiding until he was killed. Remus – well, he always kept his distance.'

'But what about Professor Dumbledore? He was appointed your guardian after the death of your parents. I remember my mother telling me that there was a heated debate on the Wizengamot the day after your parents died. There were many families that wanted to take you in, most prominent the Malfoys.'

'Ewww!' Harry made a face. 'Just imagine they'd have got me! I'd have probably appeared on the Hogwarts Express with gelled hair like Malfoy!'

She giggled about that, but soon turned sober. 'If you'd lived that long under the care of the Malfoys, Harry!'

'Well, there's that,' he admitted. 'Instead I was given in Dumbledore's care, who gave me to my aunt and then forgot about me.' His voice sounded bitter.

'That sounds as if you have reservations against Professor Dumbledore, Harry. I always thought you were his man through and through.' She searched his face with her eyes.

Harry looked down on her, not sure if he trusted her enough to tell her about his time at the Dursleys and his conflicted feelings about Dumbledore, or if he was even ready to talk about it. Heck, he himself even didn't understand his feelings. He had always adored Dumbledore and thought he could do no wrong. That's what Hagrid had told him, and the Weasleys. Even Hermione thought he always knew best. His view on Dumbledore as the unblemished leader of the light first got scratches when he had found out about his connections to Grindlewald and the plans they had made for the Greater Good. But it had been after the war, when things quietened down after the many funerals, when he started to think about his years under Dumbledore's tutelage and began to question Dumbledore's actions in regard to him. That was also the moment things between Ginny and him began to get pear-shaped...

He was pulled out of his musings by Daphne. She hugged him lightly to herself and said, 'It's all right if you don't want to talk about it, Harry. After all, even though we are married, you don't know me that well yet. I understand that I've to earn your trust, and I also understand that there are things in your past you'll probably never want to talk about.'

Harry returned her hug, thankful for the space she gave him. This was new to him. Hermione usually pestered him to no end that he should talk, and Ginny used to become angry at him when he clammed up. Only Ron was willing to accept when he wouldn't talk, but that was probably mostly because he didn't want to deal with Harry's complicated emotions. He had not the impression that Daphne was unwilling to deal with them, though.

Again, he was pulled out of his musings. Daphne bent down to the floor and picked up the list from the Goblins from where it had fallen to when she rushed towards him and hugged him. 'Back to our present problem,' she announced. 'I don't think you ought to condone these violations, Harry. As I told you, there are several ways to deal with them. You can hire a lawyer and demand an apology. You can sue them for compensation for personal suffering or you can challenge them to a duel of honour.'

She put a finger on her lips and thought for a moment. 'I think it's best to demand an apology, but imply that you'd choose one of the other two options in case that apology isn't given within a certain time frame. I imagine most of these idiots will think twice than to risk a duel with the Vanquisher of Voldemort. You can still sue those who are too dumb or too stubborn to give an apology.'

He thought about her suggestion. 'That sounds like a good idea,' he finally admitted. 'I'm certainly sick of that dragon dung and I don't want to put up with that abuse anymore. Do you want to take the same route?'

'With your permission, my husband,' she replied formally.

'Huh?'

'Harry, do I have to remind you that I gave up all my rights to you when we made our vows? I can't do anything about this without your consent. Actually, it would be most unusual if I did so. Any violation of my honour is also considered to be a violation of your honour, and you're expected to stand up for me.' Her face had become a stony mask.

Harry groaned. 'Oh, come on, Daphne. Do you really think me that overbearing? I'd never think of telling you what you should do or not. And what's that nonsense about me standing up for you? Not that I'd mind that, but I think you're perfectly capable of your own to kick the arses of these idiots. Or at least you will be as soon as I've evaluated your skills and worked with you.'

Her face grew soft. 'Thank you, Harry, for letting me make my own choices. I'd like to handle these idiots myself. I can't wait to show them what an angry witch can do.' There was a feral gleam in her eyes, and Harry took a step back.

'Whoa, I've created a monster!'

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Harry put an arm around her shoulder and dragged her with him. 'Come on, kitty, I'd like to see what you're capable of. The shield and wards I put on the beach should prevent the Muggles from seeing us use magic.'

'Don't. Call. Me. Kitty!' Daphne hissed and emphasised each word with a pinch in his buttock.

'Ouch!' Harry complained. 'Woman, you know you have an abusive streak, don't you?'

Laughing, they ran down to the beach, where Harry tested her skills as he had done with the members of the DA during their first meeting, back in fifth year. She was good, he had to admit. Her repertoire of spells almost matched Hermione's, but unlike Hermione she was agile and also could think on her feet in situations where Hermione tended to panic and freeze. The latter he found out to his disadvantage that day.

He had used nothing more damaging than Stinging Hexes on her, all cast in quick succession and with a deadly accuracy that made it almost impossible for her to retaliate with a hex of her own. Instead, he slowly but surely wore her out because she was forced to dodge and shield against his onslaught. Eventually, he manoeuvred her toward the waterline and forced her to retreat back into the water until the water went up to her knees. That bereft her of her biggest advantage, her agility. Grinning, Harry cast a string of Tripping Hexes, anticipating her next moves.

Daphne stumbled, and fell backwards into the water, while his Disarming Charm brought her wand sailing to him. She sat up, coughing and spluttering, and the glare she gave him didn't bode well for him.

Harry walked up to her, supressing the laughter that welled up in him, and held out his hand to help her up. Next thing he knew was something hitting his ankles and sending him flying headlong into the water. The next moment she swooped down on him and wrestled the two wands out of his hand.

'Muggle self-defence technics,' she grinned, straddling him. 'Tracey's mother made us learn about them when we were in our third year.'

He blinked at her, water dripping in his eyes from his hair. 'Wow, you're good!' he praised her.

Daphne got off of him, an uneasy look on her face. 'You're not mad at me that I beat you?'

'Why should I?' he asked while he scrambled to his feet and wiped the water from his eyes. 'I'm glad you can fend for yourself. Even though we live under the protection of a Fidelius Charm, you'll have to go out frequently and I can't always be with you. There's always the chance that someone will try to hurt you to get back at me.' He held out his hand to help her to her feet. 'Also, I'm relieved I won't have to do all these duels in your honour. You'd better do them yourself, kitty!'

She smiled and handed him his wand. 'I'm relieved to hear that. Most Pureblood husbands wouldn't be that lenient, Harry.'

'I hope I'm not like most Pureblood husbands,' he grumbled, pocketing his wand.

'You aren't,' she assured him.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the house.

 **MY**

After lunch, they settled down on one of the shady decks and read their way through the remaining letters in the box. Most of them were letters of congratulations, but there was also a letter from Daphne's sister Astoria, which had Daphne scream with joy, and a letter from her mother.

'Mother wants a list of your relatives and friends, so that she can send them invitations to the ball,' she told Harry after she had read the letter from her mother.

Harry looked up from the letter he was reading. 'That'll be a rather short list. My only relatives are my Muggle aunt and uncle and my cousin Dudley. They are my only relatives from my mother's side. They're afraid of magic, so I doubt any of them would be willing to come.'

'Nevertheless mother ought to send them an invitation. It's the polite thing to do.' She got up and went into the house. Moments later she returned with a notebook and a biro in her hand and sat down again. 'Please, tell me their name and residence, Harry.'

Harry made a face, but relented. 'Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and their son Dudley. They used to live on Privet Drive number foru, Little Whinging, Surrey, but they've been relocated to a safe house when I turned seventeen, for their own security. I've no idea what became of them after that.'

Daphne wrote down the information, and then looked at Harry. 'You haven't talked to your relatives since the end of the war?'

He shrugged. 'There was never much love lost between the Dursleys and me.'

She looked as if she wanted to know more about it, but then changed her mind. 'What about your relatives from the Potter side of the family?' she asked.

'There aren't any,' Harry replied.

Daphne frowned and put down the biro. 'But that's not true, Harry. There should be at least a few distant cousins of yours still be alive. I wonder why you never heard from them.'

Harry had put down the letter he'd been reading and looked at her with wide eyes. 'How would you know that, Daphne?'

'As a Pureblood girl I was taught the family trees of all Pureblood families. Though the blood status of the Potters doesn't qualify them as members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, they are considered an old Pureblood family by most wizards and witches. There's only little known of the Potters, because they always tended to keep in the background and mind their own business, but I remember that your grandfather, Fleamont Potter, had at least one brother. He married a Black and they had one son.'

'That must be Charlus and Dorea Potter, then,' Harry thought aloud. 'I saw their names on the tapestry of the Black Family Tree,' he added when he noticed Daphne's puzzled stare. 'They're both dead, though, so I never bothered to ask Sirius for their connection to my family. It only would've made me sad, I think.'

'S-sirius?' asked Daphne faintly. 'As in Sirius Black, the mass murderer?'

'Yeah, only that he didn't commit any of the crimes he was accused of. He was framed by Peter Pettigrew, who betrayed my parents to Voldemort, and put into Askaban without a trial.'

Daphne looked at him, her mouth hanging open. 'You'll have to tell me about that one of these days,' she said with a firm voice. 'But not now. Mother wants this list posthaste. I'll tell her to look into the Potter family tree and send invitations to all relatives that are still alive. It wouldn't do to snub them. Even though you don't know about them, you can bet they know about you.'

'Probably. And they never cared about me. So, why should your mother be obliged to invite them?' he asked hotly and jumped up. He walked to the edge of the deck and looked out on the ocean, his back turned to her.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, that was finally broken by Daphne. 'You know, Harry, maybe it wasn't their fault. Maybe they tried to get into contact with you, but they were rebuffed, like so many other wizards and witches who tried the same. Just remember what Director Ragnok told us.'

His stiff posture relaxed, and he turned around to face her. 'You've got a point there,' he conceded.

She smiled at him. 'Is it all right with you if I tell mother to invite them? You can have a look at them without any commitment and decide then if you want to keep in contact with them. Also, this has the added benefit that we observed the unwritten Pureblood rules of politeness and nobody can complain that we've snubbed them afterwards.'

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'Do as you see fit, Daphne. You and your mother know more about this stuff than I do.'

'All right.' She picked up the biro and wrote a short note into the notebook. 'What about your friends?'

Harry gave her a nervous side glance. 'Well, there's Hagrid. He was my first friend in the magical world and I'd hate to leave him out, though I think your mother won't like to have to invite a half-giant to her ball.'

Daphne let out a delighted chuckle. 'She won't at all, but she'll be obliged to invite him nonetheless. I can't wait to see her face when he turns up at the reception!'

Harry frowned at her. 'Hagrid's my friend, Daphne, and not a means for you to get back at your mother!' That came out more harshly than he intended, for she jumped.

She put a strand of her hair behind her ear with a finger and worried her lower lip between her teeth. 'I didn't mean to make fun of Professor Hagrid, Harry, and I don't want to use him. Even though most Slytherins thought him a laughing stock, I never agreed with them. He's a gentle soul, and his knowledge about magical creatures is impressive. But you can't deny that he'll be a trifle out of place in my mother's Blue Parlour.'

A sudden image of Hagrid, dressed his Sunday best in his hairy brown suit and trying to sit down in one of the dainty gilded chairs, while sophisticated Isabella Greengrass tried to make small talk, thrust itself on Harry's mind. He couldn't help himself, he had to laugh out loud. 'Oh Merlin, yes!' he managed to get out between fits of laughter.

Daphne watched his outburst with relief on her face. 'Who else?' she asked.

'Well, Ron and Hermione, obviously, and the rest of the Weasleys. Though I'm not looking forward to see Mrs Weasley and Ginny, after the Howlers they've sent me. I can't promise they won't make a scene. In fact, I think it's very likely they will. Same goes for Ron, I'm afraid. Though, he and Hermione won't be back until the middle of August and won't attend, anyway.'

'That doesn't matter. You can't snub your oldest friends and a family that has always been kind to you only because you're afraid of their reaction, Harry,' Daphne said firmly. 'It's unfortunate that we decided to elope on the same day when you broke up with Ginny. She probably thinks you're a two-timing bastard, or even worse, she didn't think you broke up with her for good. It's of no use to put up the inevitable. We'll have to face them one day, Harry.'

He made a face and said, 'I trust you'll protect me from them, kitty. Given how you trounced my arse today, that should be easy for you.'

'Coward!' Daphne laughed. 'Don't let anyone know that the great Harry Potter needs his wife to protect him from the wrath of his ex and her mother!'

'You forgot her surviving five brothers. They're very protective of her sister and will probably hex me into the next millennium,' he grimaced.

She chuckled lightly as she wrote the names of the Weasleys on her list. 'Yes, we managed to get ourselves in a pretty mess. But don't worry, I won't allow anyone to kill you. I happen to like having you around.' She sent him a seductive smile.

Harry gulped, and she grinned. 'Anyone else?'

'Neville and Luna, Andy and Teddy, and Kingsley. Oh, don't forget his lady friend, Hestia Jones,' Harry listed the names of his other friends.

Daphne wrote them down. 'Well, then there are at least a few friendly faces in our corner,' she remarked.

That surprised him. 'But what about your friends and relatives?' he asked and sat down beside her.

'I told you already, I didn't have any friends beside Tracey. I was friendly with Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw, but I don't know if we qualify as friends. And my relatives – my uncle and aunt from my mother's side are all right. My father doesn't have any siblings, so there are only his cousins. Well, they are typical Purebloods. They will on the outside fawn on you because you vanquished Voldemort and they're afraid of you. Also, they'll try to get into my good graces because they think you'll be the rising power of the Wizarding world. But behind our backs they'll mock about us because you're a Halfblood and your mother was a Muggleborn.' Her voice sounded scornful and her eyes blazed. 'Even worse, we'll have to get along with that because they still have the money and the political clout to make our life miserable, Chosen One notwithstanding.'

Harry sighed. 'I hate this politicking!'

'I know,' Daphne replied quietly. She bit on her lower lip. 'Look, Harry, we'll have to talk about your place in our society one day, but our honeymoon is neither the place nor the time for that. Let's just send this list to mother and get over with that ball, all right?'

He looked at her, not sure what she was talking about, but decided to leave it at that. She was right, now was neither the time nor the place.

 **MY**

The rest of the afternoon was spent quietly in the seclusion of their villa. In the evening they decided to have a simple dinner of pizza at the bar on the western beach and watch the sunset.

They ambled back to their house in the almost complete darkness hand in hand. Even though, the tropical forest wasn't quiet. A choir of birdsong serenaded them on their way.

'Will you tell me about your godfather, Harry?' Daphne asked.

Harry sighed. It hurt to talk about Sirius. He still hadn't forgiven himself for the role he had played in the events that lead to Sirius death. But he didn't want her to think of the man who had been the closest thing to a father to him as a mass murderer.

Haltingly at first, but then with more confidence, he began to tell her about the Marauders and the events on Halloween 1981 and the aftermath of that horrible night.

She did not once interrupt him, but her eyes blazed when he told her how the traitor Pettigrew managed to escape and Sirius had been put into Azkaban by Minister Bagnold and Barty Crouch.

When they reached the house, they walked through the living room and out onto the deck. Like yesterday, the staff had lit a bonfire on the beach, and in silent agreement they went down to the beach and settled down on the cushions. Daphne pulled his head against her shoulder and gently stroked his head, while he went on with his story. She cried when he told her how Sirius was caught by Bellatrix Lestrange's Stunner and sent through the Veil, and the summer of self-loathing he had had after that. She put her arms around him and held him tight.

Harry returned her embrace. It had been cathartic to talk to her, as if a thin grey layer he didn't even knew that was there had been removed from his soul. She had listened to his story without interrupting him, giving him the space to tell the story on his own terms and to omit the parts he still felt uncomfortable to talk about. That was a new experience for him. Hermione would have interrupted him and have asked a plethora of questions. Ginny would have sensed at once when he tried to omit something and have tried to get it out of him, with the result that they would have been fighting within the next minute.

Daphne had done nothing like that. As a result, he had told her more than he'd intended to or thought he would ever be capable to tell anyone.

He tilted her head up with his fingers and kissed her gently. 'Thank you for listening to me, Daphne.'

She didn't reply, but still held him close. They stayed that way until the fire had burned down to glowing embers.

 **MY**

The next day brought the article in the "Daily Prophet" they had anticipated.

 _ **Surprise Marriage of the Chosen One**_

 _ **Forced or Faked?**_

 _by_

 _Rita Skeeter_

the headline screamed at them as soon as Harry took the paper out of the Banishing Box.

'Skeeter!' Harry groaned. 'Why am I not surprised?'

Daphne patted with her hand on the seat beside her. 'Come on, Harry, let's read it and put it behind us!'

He sat down beside her and together they bent their heads over the paper.

 _Dear readers, to the surprise of almost anyone in the magical world and the dismay of the female population, renowned businessman Cyrus Greengrass and his wife Isabella, nee McDougal, announced the marriage of their eldest daughter Daphne to Harry Potter, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One or Man-Who-Conquered-You-Know-Who in the_ _Sunday Prophet_ _. This was reason enough for this reporter to investigate the background of these nuptials._

 _As anyone knows, the elusive Vanquisher of the Darkness disappeared from the surface of the magical world almost immediately after his conquest over the most powerful dark wizard that ever terrorised this country. Reportedly he was living at the home of Ministry employee Arthur Weasley and his wife Molly, nee Prewitt. Their youngest son Donald is a close friend of the Chosen One and accompanied him on his quest to save our world. So, you would think it not unusual that the young man who never knew the comfort of his own family recuperated from his ordeal at the home of a family who took him in as one of their own._

 _Only very few people, however, know that the youngest Weasley daughter, Virginia, has been the Chosen One's love interest during his sixth year at Hogwarts._

' _He couldn't keep his hands off her. They were really disgusting!' this year's celebrated debutante Pansy Parkinson told this reporter. 'She claimed they had broken up when he didn't appear at Hogwarts for his seventh year, but of course we all knew they faked that. I'm sure they got together again as soon as the battle was over and expected to hear an announcement about their engagement any day.'_

 _Mr Potter closest friends also appeared to be surprised about his sudden marriage to Miss Greengrass. 'I didn't even know he knew her,' Seamus Finnigan said. 'Harry always hated anything Slytherin. She's quite the looker! But I always thought he was with Ginny.'_

 _What is the real reason behind this surprise marriage? Has Miss Greengrass ensnared our young hero, who already showed at the tender age of fourteen that he can be easily lured away from the right path by female beauty, with bedroom skills and destroyed his obviously serious relationship with Miss Weasley? Has she used Love Potions on him? Is another announcement following this surprise marriage soon? Only time will tell, dear readers._

 _This reporter feels with Miss Weasley, whose hopes for a happy future were destroyed by the reckless behaviour of the Chosen One and Miss Greengrass._

 _What is also troubling is the fact that this reporter didn't find any evidence of the alleged marriage that was claimed to have been contracted in a private ceremony, in the Ministry's Marriage Register. That leads to the interesting question if the claims of the Greengrass family about that marriage are true._

 _Though the Greengrass family stayed out of the conflict that divided our nation, there have always been rumours that Cyrus Greengrass secretly supported You-Know-Who. However, no charges were made against him after the end of the war. Was that due to the influence of the Chosen One? Did the Greengrass family give their eldest daughter as a token of thanks to our young hero, without the obligation to marry the unfortunate young woman?_

 _Neither Miss Greengrass, nor the Chosen One were available for a comment. Cyrus Greengrass, asked about the whereabouts of his daughter and his alleged son-in-law only replied 'No comment!' His wife Isabella claimed that the young couple is spending a prolonged honeymoon on a tropical island._

 _We can only hope that the Chosen One will come out of his reclusiveness soon and make a statement._

 _For more information about the Chosen One and his list of conquests (Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil, Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur Delacour, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Virginia Weasley) see pages 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 15, 16 and 17._

 _For more information about the Greengrass family and their connections to You-Know-Who see pages 3, 5 and 7._

Harry put down the paper. 'I know she couldn't resist to accuse you to have used Love Potions on me,' he grinned.

Daphne covered her face with her hands. 'Bedroom skills! I'm never going to live that one down!'

'Oh, I don't know, I happen to like your bedroom skills,' Harry grinned and kissed her on the cheek.

She slapped him on the shoulder in return. 'Prat!'

'Abusive woman!' he replied, rubbing his shoulder in an exaggerated way.

'Crybaby!' She picked up the paper and skimmed the article once again. 'Though, her claims are that contradictory that I doubt anyone will believe her. First she says I seduced you and used Love Potions on you. Then she hints that I'm already pregnant and were forced to marry because of that.'

'What?!' Harry exclaimed. 'I missed that one!' He blanched. 'You aren't, are you? Pregnant, I mean.'

Daphne giggled. 'Your face was just priceless, Harry! I wish I had a camera with me! No, I'm not. I'm on the Contraceptive Potion since I'm thirteen, and my current dose will last until Easter.'

'Phew!' He let out a breath, which had Daphne giggle again.

'Finally she insinuates that I was given to you against my will as your mistress as a payment because you kept my father out of jail. No one can be as dumb as to believe that rubbish.'

'I wouldn't count on that,' Harry said darkly.

 **MY**

His statement turned out to be accurate. Over the next couple of days they received long lists from the Goblins with the names of people who had sent Howlers to them.

'Our solicitor will have a field day!' Daphne remarked, scanning the latest list. 'Dealing with that will keep him occupied for the rest of the year. That reminds me, have you already asked Minister Shacklebolt to recommend a solicitor to you?'

They both hadn't felt comfortable to contact any of the lawyers Daphne knew, because they had connections to her father and Daphne didn't want her father to find out anything about her and Harry's affairs.

'I have, and I got Kingsley's answer today. Though I'm not sure if you like his suggestion,' Harry replied and took a sip of his drink. As always in the afternoon, they were lazing in the shade on one of the spacious decks that surrounded the villa.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. 'Try me!'

'Kingsley suggested Percy Weasley.'

'Oh!' Daphne was silent for a while, obviously considering Kingsley's suggestion. 'Well, I can see that you feel uncomfortable with that suggestion, given your current problems with his younger sister. On the other hand, if he agrees to be your lawyer and that becomes public knowledge, it'll do a lot to diffuse the rumours about our marriage.'

'That was exactly Kingsley's reasoning for his recommendation. Apparently, he already asked Percy if he'll be willing to do the job, and Percy agreed,' Harry explained.

Daphne gave him a shrewd side glance. 'And how do you feel about this suggestion?'

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'I'm torn,' he admitted. 'Percy was always the Weasley brother I least of all got along with. He was a brownnoser during his time at the Ministry and even wrote Ron to distance himself from me, because he believed the rubbish the Fudge administration spread about me. He backed down, though, and apologised to me for his behaviour after the battle. He really changed a lot after the battle. I also know that he'll do an excellent job if he represents us. Percy is ambitious, he excels at everything he does.' He hesitated, then said, 'I guess I'll give it a try. I feel more comfortable with talking to Percy than talking to someone I don't know. During our school years and the times I spent at the Burrow Percy learned a lot about me, but to my knowledge he never betrayed anything of that to Fudge, Umbridge or Scrimgeour. That counts a lot in my book.'

Daphne smiled. 'All right, than that's settled. I'd suggest you write to Mr Weasley as soon as possible!'

'I will,' Harry promised. 'Slave driver!'

'Prat!'

The days of their honeymoon babbled along like a brook in the sunshine. They explored the small island on bike and on foot, went out on snorkel expeditions, and ventured to the islands of Praslin and La Digue by the boat shuttle the resort provided.

Most of the time, however, was spent in the reclusiveness of the villa. After the first night of their honeymoon they had discovered they were both unable to keep their hands off each other, and they took every opportunity to explore that unexpected aspect of their relationship.

Though the passion they felt for each other was far from the butterflies Ginny had caused in his stomach, it helped a lot to make their marriage work, Harry admitted to himself one afternoon when he sat on the deck and enjoyed the view over the ocean.

The soft splashing of water broke him out of his thoughts. Daphne climbed out of the swimming pool. In the privacy of their villa she hadn't bothered with a swimsuit, and Harry admired his wife's perfectly modelled body when she walked up to him.

He sighed inwardly. Not only was her body perfect, she had also gone out of her way to become the perfect wife for him. His talk with Andromeda when he told her about his hasty marriage was on his mind constantly these days. Andromeda had told him that Daphne had been raised to marry a man her parents would choose for her, and that it had been ingrained to her to please her husband. His wife's behaviour towards him confirmed that.

She had soon realised his lack of knowledge of the magical world, especially the world of the Purebloods, and had taken on herself to tutor him in the many things he still had to learn. They spent hours each day talking about that, and she'd even gone so far to teach him how to dance. In return, he helped her to improve her duelling skills.

The evenings they spent on the beach, talking. Daphne told him how it had been to grow up in a Pureblood household with indifferent, even cold parents, who left the upbringing of their two daughters to the house elves and hired tutors. They had a lot in common, Harry mused, both coming from loveless childhoods and both being able to count the number of their friends on the fingers of one hand.

However, he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his childhood with the Dursleys. Somewhere deep inside of him was the fear she'd reject him, just like they had done, because he was still Harry, the freak.

They'd become friends, just as they'd hoped it would be.

On the outside, their life was perfect. They had enough money to live a life in luxury, and they enjoyed being with each other, inside and outside the bedroom. Everyone who met them saw only the well-off young couple that seemed to be devoted to each other. He had every reason to be happy with his life, Harry told himself sternly. Once again he vowed to himself to make their marriage as easy on Daphne as she made it easy on him.

'A Knut for your thoughts,' Daphne said and made herself comfortable in his lap. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly.

He slid his arms around her waist, enjoying the feeling of her soft, damp skin under his hands, and returned her kiss. 'I was thinking about us. We've managed to get through this without any bumps so far, haven't we?'

'That's true, but we haven't been really put to the test during the last three weeks,' she replied and leaned her head against his shoulder. 'It's only been the two of us. The real challenge will come when we're back at home and have to deal with our friends and daily life. I suppose we'll be in for some rough times then.'

He pulled her closer towards him. 'Don't jinx it, kitty.'

 **MY**

The challenges of real life imposed themselves sooner upon them than they had thought. As always, it began with the annoying buzzing of the Banishing Box. They were just having breakfast. Daphne sat on Harry's lap and they fed each other with the delicious cut up tropical fruits that came along with every meal.

'Bugger!' Daphne groaned and let her head sink against his shoulder. 'I wish we'd have had sense enough to leave that damned shoebox at home. I swear, one of these days I'm going to dump it in the ocean!'

Harry laughed. 'Says she who always reminds me of my responsibilities and insists that I do them as soon as possible.'

'That I'm the more conscientious of the two of us doesn't mean that I have to like it when that damned thing interrupts quality time with my husband,' Daphne replied and slid from his lap. She walked to the offending box, tapped it with her wand and returned with a couple of letters in her hands. 'Here's the usual list of Howlers. Today I'm lucky, only you got one.' She settled back in his lap.

Harry took the sheet of parchment out of her hand and read it. 'Only one Howler today. From Ron,' he said quietly.

Daphne interrupted herself perusing the letters and kissed him on the cheek. 'I'm sorry, Harry.'

He gave her a strained smile. 'It's all right, kitty. I expected something like that to happen.'

She murmured something that sounded like "Griffindorks!" and returned to the letters in her hand, handing him three of them. 'We've got Hogwarts letters. And we both got a letter from Professor McGonagall. Oh, and you also have a letter from Granger,' she told him.

Harry took the letters with mixed feelings. He had no idea why he got a Hogwarts letter or why McGonagall wrote him, but he had a very good idea about the contents of Hermione's letter, and he didn't feel ready to face that. Postponing the inevitable, he opened the Hogwarts letter first.

 _Dear students,_

 _In the light of the events at Hogwarts during the last school year and the abysmal standard of education, the Board of Governors, backed by the Ministry for Magic, decided that every student who attended Hogwarts last year or was kept from attendance by the war, has to repeat that year._

 _This decision concerns in particular the students who wished to obtain their OWLs or NEWTs last year, since due to the reappraisal of last year's events this year the Ministry for Magic is unable to offer the exams usually taken by home schooled students in December. Everyone who wishes to take these exams has to return to Hogwarts._

 _Please, bear in mind that even though the Ministry for Magic has lowered the entrance requirements for those NEWT students who wish to obtain employment with the Ministry for Magic considerably, the NEWT exam is still required. Contrary to the rumours that are circulating, participation in the Battle of Hogwarts will not suffice._

Harry looked up from his letter. Daphne had also just finished reading her letter, and their eyes met.

'That means you'll have to return to Hogwarts, doesn't it?' Daphne asked.

He nodded, still not able to grasp the implications that letter would have for his life. He would need the required NEWTs to get into Auror School, and there was no other way to obtain them than to return to Hogwarts. Part of him was excited to return to the place he considered home in the Wizarding world, and maybe have a quiet school year full of fun. Another part of him dreaded to have to return to the place of the Battle. Would he ever be able to walk into the Great Hall without seeing the still forms of Fred, Remus, Tonks and little Collin Creevey? And what would become of Daphne and him? He knew she didn't plan on obtaining her NEWTs anymore. She had set her heart on a Muggle education and planned to start Muggle school in September. There was no way he would be allowed to attend Hogwarts as a day student and to return to Grimmauld Place at night, he guessed. But the law forced them to live together, or their magic would suffer.

As always, she made it easy for him. 'I'll come with you,' she said. 'Though I was not planning on completing my NEWTs, my parents will be delighted to hear I changed my mind. Also, I'd love to have another year at school with Tori.'

Tori, or Astoria, was Daphne's younger sister, and Harry had soon learned that they were very close, though he still had to meet his sister-in-law.

'But didn't you want to attend evening school in September?' he protested. 'Coming with me to Hogwarts means you'll have to wait yet another year to pursue your dream.'

'Not necessarily, Harry,' she contradicted and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Look, when I made my plans, I thought I had to work for my living during daytime and only would've time to go to school at night. But somehow I managed to find myself a rich husband who likes to indulge me and doesn't mind that I want to study the Muggle way, so I don't have to work anymore.' She grinned at him and gave him a light peck on the lips. 'This means that I can find myself a tutor and get home schooled, so I'll probably be able to take the GCSE much sooner than I originally planned. So, going to Hogwarts with you isn't that much of a sacrifice.'

His eyes lit up at that. He pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply. 'Thank you, Daphne! You know that you're much too indulgent, don't you?'

She laughed at that and let her hand run through his hair. 'Harry, as I see it, you deserve to be spoilt a little.'

He kissed her again, thankful that they managed to get around that problem without a mayor disagreement.

Then they opened the letters they got from McGonagall.

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _In the light of your achievements for the Wizarding world and Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft in particular, I would like to offer you the honour of becoming head boy this year. Please, send me an owl to let me know your decision and to make an appointment to talk about the duties of the office._

 _Yours sincerely_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Headmistress_

Harry looked up. His eyes met Daphne's. He held out his letter to her. 'McGonagall wants me to be head boy,' he exclaimed.

'Me, too,' Daphne replied. She looked as dumbfounded as he felt.

'Huh?'

'I mean, she wants me to be head girl,' Daphne clarified, dazed.

Harry was taken aback. Sure, he was happy for her, but he had always thought the honour of becoming head girl in their seventh year belonged to Hermione. She had always been one of the top students in their year, if not the top student, and with her achievements in the fight against Voldemort he had thought she would be the only possible candidate for head girl.

His bewilderment must have shown on his face. Daphne worried her lower lip between her teeth and gave him an uneasy look. 'I know you probably think I stole that honour from Granger, Harry,' she started. 'That's only partially true. Actually, I beat Granger in our OWLs as well as in our end of year exams in sixth year by one point. But Professor McGonagall also wrote to me she made a political statement with selecting me as head girl. She's taken in account that we're married and wants to show the school that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin can make a good team, to quote her words. Also, she's afraid that after the events of the last year the younger Slytherins will be bullied by the rest of the school and wants someone in their corner. She knows that I always was an advocate for the younger students of my house, even though I never made it prefect.' She bit her lips again. Her face became a stony mask and she looked him straight in the eyes. 'Please, let me know your decision whether I'm allowed to become head girl, my husband,' she said formally.

'Oh, really, Daphne, do we have to go through this over and over again?' Harry protested. 'If you want to become head girl, do it, for Merlin's sake!'

'I don't want to come between you and Granger,' she admitted. 'She'll be furious, and has every right to be so. The honour should have gone to her.'

'It's not Hermione's place to question McGonagall's decision,' Harry contradicted and hugged Daphne to him. 'McGonagall's reasoning for making you head girl is sound. Even I have to admit that Hermione isn't that good with the younger students. She's a stickler for rules and she likes to preach. All younger students in our house are afraid of her.'

She still looked dubious.

'Do it, Daphne. Write to McGonagall and tell her you'll accept, or I'll do it for you in the old fashioned Pureblood way!' he threatened.

That made her laugh. 'Thank you, Harry. Though this will make things between you and your friends not easier.'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'It might not be easier, but it's the right thing to do.'

She slid from his lap. 'I'm going to write to Headmistress McGonagall,' she announced and disappeared into the house.

Harry watched her retreating back. He was glad she gave him the space to read Hermione's letter in privacy, but he wouldn't have expected anything else from her. He turned Hermione's letter in his hands and then opened it with a sigh.

 _Harry,_

 _I hope this letter finds you, though I have doubts about it._

 _Why by Morgana did you marry Daphne Greengrass? You were with Ginny!_

 _Considering the faithfulness you showed towards Ginny during our time on the run – I saw you how you watched her dot on the Marauder's Map night for night! – I can't believe you cheated on her with Greengrass. I don't think you spoke more than half a dozen of words to her during our Hogwarts days._

 _The only explanation I have for your mysterious behaviour is that you were forced into this marriage, most likely by the threat of harm to one you love, probably Ginny. Don't worry, Harry, I already did some research about the possibilities to dissolve a magical marriage that has been contracted under a threat. I'm positive we'll get you out of this trap._

 _I am sure you live at Snuffle's old house, but neither Ron nor I can remember where that house is, so it is up to you to find a way to get into contact with us. I hope and pray that they don't keep you prisoner. Your mysterious disappearance bodes not well._

 _Please, send news about your whereabouts to Mr Weasley, who will keep us informed. We suppose that Mrs Weasley is too distraught about your behaviour that we dare to involve her. You know that Ron and I will move heaven and earth to get you out of that!_

 _I know that Ron sent you a Howler, and I hope that you are not angry about that. You know how much Ron loves his little sister. Don't let that Greengrass bitch destroy your friendship!_

 _Hope to hear from you soon._

 _Your friend_

 _Hermione_

He let out another sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. It would be hard to persuade Hermione that he entered into his marriage to Daphne voluntarily, and even harder to persuade her he had broken up with Ginny before that. When Ron and Hermione had left for Australia, he and Ginny still had been a happy couple – at least that was what he had thought back then. In hindsight, the first breaches in his relationship to Ginny had already been evident. It was not surprising that they thought he had been forced into his marriage with Daphne under a threat, and he was touched and amused that Hermione already looked into ways to dissolve this marriage. That was so like her. But calling Daphne a bitch was taking it too far, he thought. Also, he was annoyed at Ron that he sent him a Howler without even trying to talk to him before. By now, Ron should have grown out of that childish habit of acting on assumptions.

He folded Hermione's letter and put it in his back pocket. He would have to think about what to write her back. It wouldn't do to write the first response that had come to his mind – to stay out of his business. His eyes unfocussed, he stared out onto the ocean, his thoughts whirling.

Two slender arms wrapped around his neck from behind, startling him out of his thoughts.

'You've been staring out onto the water for over thirty minutes,' Daphne whispered into his ears. 'Was Granger's letter that bad?'

He pulled her gently by the arm and dragged her onto his lap. 'She called you a bitch,' he mumbled, his head buried against her shoulder.

She tilted up his chin with a finger. 'That's all?' she asked with a raised eyebrow. 'I've been called worse. You should've heard Parkinson! That girl swears like a sailor.'

In spite of his grim mood he had to smile at her attempt to cheer him up.

'I was thinking about what to write her back. She thinks you forced me into this marriage and is already looking for ways how to dissolve it,' he told her.

Daphne's smile turned strained at his words. 'Will you tell her to go on with that?'

Harry shook his head. 'No, I think we both agreed that neither of us was forced into this marriage.'

'Yes, that's as long as being megahorny doesn't fall under the definition of being forced,' Daphne agreed with an impish grin.

That had him laugh out loud. 'I can ask Hermione to try that angle, but I think she'll faint with shock. She sometimes does have a prudish streak.'

'Like all Gryffindors,' Daphne nodded.

'Hey, I resent that! I'm also a Gryffindor!' he pouted.

She seemed to disagree, but let his words pass. 'Why don't you write her to meet with you as soon as she returns from Australia and talk? That would be easier than to explain everything in a letter. Written words can be misinterpreted, you know.'

He hugged her to himself. 'That's an excellent suggestion. I'll do that.'

MY

Eventually, their honeymoon came to an end. Daphne and Harry were both surprised how hard they found it to say good bye to their romantic retreat.

'Maybe we can come back one time,' Daphne said as the door closed behind them for the last time and they walked to the waiting golf cart.

Harry put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on her temple. 'We can return for our silver wedding anniversary,' he quipped, and was promptly elbowed in the side by Daphne.

'Wrong answer, husband!' she mock-glared at him.

It was still dark when they left the island on the motor boat and headed for Mahé. Again, Daphne and Harry sat in the stern of the boat. This time, Daphne didn't have to remind him to put his arm around her shoulders.

They had grown together during these three weeks, Harry mused. Their relationship lacked the ups and downs that came with falling in love. They were still too mindful of each other's feelings to rub against each other like a couple falling in love would. But they were lovers in the physical sense and friends, and that was much more than they had dared to hope for when they discovered they were married. _'I have to be content with that,'_ he thought as he watched the sunrise.

They were back at Grimmauld Place at midnight. Kreacher was overjoyed to see them. He flung himself at Harry and then at Daphne and insisted that they had to take a snack he had prepared for them. Dead tired they finally collapsed into bed.

The next day they had their first appointment with Percy. He had rented a small office near Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and Harry and Daphne met him there in the late morning.

Harry looked around. The office was very much like Percy, neat and business-like. The predominant colours were black, white and grey, and charcoal drawings adorned the white walls. It could have been the office of a Muggle lawyer in any part of the world, and stood in stark contrast to the abundance of overwhelming colours down on Diagon Alley. Thanks to excellent Silencing Charms, the hustle and bustle of the alley couldn't even been heard up here.

Percy came out of his office after his receptionist had announced them. He wore crisp grey robes and greeted them with outstretched hands.

'Harry! Good to see you! I hear congratulations are in order. Will you introduce me to your wife?'

Slightly puzzled, Harry shook Percy's hand. He hadn't counted on that. In the light of his break-up with Ginny he had expected a rather cool welcome.

He turned to Daphne. 'Daphne, may I present an old friend and housemate from Gryffindor, Percy Weasley. Percy, this is my wife, Daphne Potter.'

Percy bowed over Daphne's hand and kissed her knuckles. 'I'm charmed to meet you, Mrs Potter.'

'Call me Daphne, please,' Daphne smiled. 'A friend of Harry is also a friend of mine.'

Percy ushered them into a conference room, and they sat down at a stylish glass table. He cleared his throat. 'Harry, before we get to the reason for this meeting, we need to clear the air, I think. While I was as surprised as anyone to hear of your marriage to Daphne, I don't believe for one second that you cheated on my sister or were forced into this marriage by the use of Love Potions or force. I've lived with you and Ginevra at the Burrow, and I could see that your relationship fell apart. I'm sorry to say that my sister made rather unreasonable demands on you, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you broke up with her. But you need to know that Ginevra told everyone in my family that you were on the brink of proposing to her the day you left the Burrow.'

Harry winced at that, though he was not surprised. Knowing Ginny and her obsession with the Boy-Who-Lived, he had expected something like that. He never ought to have started dating her, thus rekindling her obsession, he thought ruefully.

Daphne took his hand and squeezed it lightly. Harry gave her a small smile of thanks and then turned to Percy, who had watched the exchange between the Potters silently.

'Thanks for the warning, Percy,' he replied. 'I'm sorry to hear that. I always considered every member of the Weasley family as one of my friends, and I'm sad that break-up with Ginny will drive a wedge into the relationship between the Weasleys and I.'

'Speaking for myself, I'll not allow that, Harry. I've once made the mistake not to listen to you. I won't make it again. Ginevra's deluding herself at the moment, just like I did when I left the Burrow. That's a lesson she's to learn by herself, I'm afraid.' Percy sighed.

'And the rest of the family – well, I know that Bill and Fleur share my point of view and that Bill talked to Charlie about that before he went back to Romania. George's still not in the shape to care for anything.' His face grew taut at his last words. 'Father keeps neutral, as always. Mum and young Ronald, however...'

Harry interrupted him with a short bark of laughter. 'You don't have to tell me, Percy. I got howlers from both of them.'

Percy gave him a tense smile. 'Well, then you know already.' He cleared his throat and became the business-like solicitor. 'You wanted to talk to me about some letters you want to be sent?'

Harry took the cue and pulled out the lists he had got from the Goblins. 'Yeah. There are some people out there who think they can tell us how to live our life and aren't exactly subtle about that. Daphne and I both got numerous Howlers during our honeymoon. Here are the lists of names of people who sent Howlers to me. I'd like you to write to each person on the list and demand an apology within a timeframe of two weeks after receiving the letter. I also want you to imply that I reserve the right for myself to choose whether to sue them or to challenge them to a Wizarding duel. Of course, the conditions for such a duel will also be chosen by me, since I am the offended party.'

'Of course,' Percy grinned. 'Sly, Harry! Who'd be so dumb to risk a duel with the wizard who brought down V-Voldemort?'

'Exactly what we thought,' Harry grinned back. 'Though, the compliment for that plan is due to Daphne. She came up with it.'

'So, you're not only beautiful, but also smart. A deadly combination,' Percy said to Daphne.

Harry almost fell from his chair with surprise. Did Percy just flirt with his wife?

Daphne gave Percy a radiant smile. 'Thank you, Percy.' She pulled out her own lists. 'I'd like you to write letters similar to those you'll write for Harry to the people on these lists, only in the name of Daphne Potter. Though, you might imply that my husband reserves himself the right to stand up for me if I choose to challenge them to a duel.'

Percy laughed out loud at that.

Harry gave his wife a surprised glance while she handed the lists to Percy. 'I thought we agreed that you do the duelling part of your own?'

'We did,' she confirmed. 'But no one has ever heard my name and therefor they will not be impressed by the threat of a duel with me. But everyone knows you, Harry, and knows that as my husband you have the right to stand up for me, so they'll think twice about it. I don't want to have to fight more duels than absolutely necessary.'

'Sly snake,' Harry grinned at Daphne. 'Why do I get the feeling that you use these damned marriage laws to your advantage and put me forward whenever it suits you?'

'Because I do,' Daphne admitted and blushed. 'Sorry, Harry. If you insist we can keep that part out of the letters.'

'No, no, that's all right with me,' Harry assured her.

Percy had listened to their exchange silently. 'I'll get these letters on the way within this week,' he told them. 'I'd like to suggest we meet again in three weeks and talk about how to proceed in the cases of those who refused to apologise. Though I doubt there'll be many.' He rose from his chair to indicate the meeting was over.

Daphne and Harry followed suit.

While he ushered them out, Percy complimented them on their tan. 'I think I've never seen you looking that healthy, Harry! Married life obviously suits you. Where have you been for your honeymoon?'

Daphne told him, and if Percy felt any surprise about their choice of a Muggle resort, he didn't let it on. They bade their good byes and left the office.

'Now, that was surprising,' Harry said when they walked out onto the street.

Daphne put her hand in the crook of his arm. 'What do you mean, Harry?'

'Percy,' he elaborated while he walked her down the street to Twillfitt and Tattings. 'I never would've thought he'll take my side over Ginny.'

His wife gave him a shrewd side glance. 'I remember Percy from the time he was head boy in our third year. He always was ambitious. Now he's a young solicitor who needs to make a name for himself. Having the Chosen One as his client doesn't hurt, you know. Others will follow where you lead, Harry. At the moment, you're more important to him than his sister.'

Harry frowned. 'Does it always have to be about the advantages you get out of something with you Slytherins?'

Daphne blushed. 'Sorry, but that's the first thing that comes to mind. That's just the way my brain works. Assume the worst of everyone, and you'll never be disappointed. I didn't say it's his only motive or that he's aware of this motive. I could see that he's truly sorry for the way he treated you in the past and wants to make amends for that.'

He still frowned. 'Do you also think so about our relationship, Daphne? Do you think the worst of me so that you don't find yourself disappointed?' His voice sounded hurt.

She blushed even harder and bit her lower lip. 'In the beginning, it was like that. I thought you were like the other men I knew. But I soon found out how nice and considerate you are, Harry.'

He huffed at that.

Daphne got angry. 'Please, spare me that holier-than-thou attitude, Harry! You can't deny that you also had your preconceived notions about me, just because I'm a Slytherin, and needed some time to overcome them.'

He didn't answer. In an uncomfortable silence the young couple made their way to the tailor's shop to get measured for evening robes for their wedding ball. When they met again afterwards, they didn't dare look each other into the eyes.

Harry Side-Along-Apparated her back to Grimmauld Place, where Kreacher had already lunch prepared for them. The uncomfortable silence lasted throughout the meal.

Daphne pushed her plate away. 'We've got to talk, Harry.'

He glared at her.

'Don't give me that look, Harry! We knew right from the beginning that we come from very different backgrounds and that we might clash because of that. We agreed to work that out and talk if that happens, remember? Sulking and brooding, like you do right now, won't get us anywhere!'

He lowered his eyes. She was right, he had to admit. His sullen silence wouldn't help. But he also couldn't help that this behaviour was ingrained in him. His life with the Dursleys had never taught him how to have a constructive fight with a family member. He had been the weakest member of that family, the freak. Whenever he tried to stand up against them, he had been shown his place at the bottom of the pecking order, sometimes with harmful words, but often enough with physical abuse. He couldn't count the many hours he had spent in his cupboard afterwards, biting away the tears and brooding why life dealt him such a bad hand.

But he wasn't any longer with the Dursleys, he reminded himself. He was finally free. He and Daphne could set up their own rules for their life. It was about time to overcome old habits, he decided.

He looked at his wife. 'I'm sorry, Daphne. You're right, we need to talk. There's a lot I need to explain to you. But not here. Can we go up to our room?'

She nodded, puzzled about his reaction. He took her hand and le d her upstairs. In their room, they sat down on the sofa and faced each other.

Not knowing how to begin, Harry ran a hand through his hair. 'Look, Daphne, I told you I was raised by my Muggle Aunt and her family and that they didn't like magic.'

She nodded at that, but her eyes clearly betrayed she didn't know how that related to their fight.

'Well, that was only the tip of the iceberg. My aunt was jealous of my mother. She resented that my mother was able to perform magic, but she wasn't. She wrote Dumbledore and asked him to attend Hogwarts together with my mother, but when he declined, that rejection turned into hate against my mother and subsequently anything magical.'

He stood up and walked to the window, turning his back to her. He couldn't bear to see the disdain in her face when he told her his story.

'When I turned up at her doorstep, she let me pay for that. She doted on her son, but I was neglected. I hardly ever got enough to eat. I had to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs and to wear the oversized cast-offs of my whale of a cousin. Whenever I did accidental magic, I was punished. I was thrown in my cupboard and left in the dark for hours, sometimes for days. Always I was denied food when that happened. They also - they also denied me the right to use the bathroom.' His voice quivered.

'It didn't end there. Sometimes, they'd punish me physically. Uncle Vernon would put his hand around my throat and squeeze until I thought I was going to suffocate.' He could hear a small whimper coming from Daphne.

'Eventually, I'd become their scapegoat for everything that went wrong in their life.' He paused. Then he said softly, 'I tried to stand up to them. I'm a Gryffindor for some reason, Daphne. There's something in us that lets us fight no matter how bad the odds against us are. Of course, I had no chance against them. I'd always end in my cupboard, bruised and starved. Whenever something like that happened, I'd sit in my cupboard and ask myself why these things always happened to me. I wouldn't allow myself to cry, but I'd despair of the injustice of it all.'

He took a deep breath. 'In a way I'm still the small boy in the cupboard. Whenever I feel hurt or wronged, I'll retreat into myself. Without even realising it, I'll turn into the little boy who's angry at the injustice of his life.'

He heard her get up from the sofa and step behind him. The next moment he felt her arms around his waist and her soft body pressed against his back. 'So, that's why you clammed up?'

'Yeah. I was hurt that you thought me to be like the Pureblood men you know. I thought I'd shown you right from the start that I was different. Silly, really. You didn't know me any more than I knew you. When I'd issues to trust you, how could I expect unconditional trust from you? But I was the little boy back in the cupboard just like that.' He snapped with his fingers.

'I see, Harry,' she whispered and pressed a gentle kiss against his back. 'Please, look at me.'

He turned around in her arms and saw to his amazement that her face was wet with tears.

'Thank you for trusting me with that, Harry.' She leaned her head against his chest and hugged him tightly.

Harry felt as if another grey layer had been torn from his soul.

 **MY**

They spent the afternoon with Teddy and Andy.

'It's amazing how much he's grown within these few weeks,' Daphne said, kissing the small boy on his soft baby cheeks.

Teddy looked at her, gurgled, and then the tuft of hair on his head turned the exact shade of blonde as her hair.

'He's developing his Metamorphmagus abilities,' Andy explained. 'Since a couple of days he tries to look like everyone he sees. Dora was just like him this age.' She smiled wistfully.

'Can I hold him, just once, pretty please?' Harry asked his wife and gave her his best puppy-dog-eyes.

She laughed and handed the baby to Harry.

Harry settled the little boy in the crook of his left arm and tickled his belly with his right hand. 'Hey, you!' he smiled at his godson.

Still sporting a tuft of honey coloured hair, Teddy gave his godfather a look full of concentration. The colour of his eyes changed, until they matched exactly the colour of Harry's eyes.

Andy smiled. 'Take a good look if you want to know how your future children will look.'

Daphne and Harry looked at each other and smiled.

 **MY**

'Harry, did you already think about which parts of the house you want to renovate?' Daphne asked the next morning at breakfast while they lingered over a last cup of tea.

Harry put his cup back on the saucer and sighed. 'As far as I'm concerned, you might as well tear the whole damned place down, but that would break Kreacher's heart. Sirius has been forced to live like a prisoner in this house, and I hate it for that. Also...' His voice broke.

She put her hand on his. 'It reminds you of him, doesn't it?'

He nodded. 'Yeah. I only chose to live here because of the security it offers. It's unplottable and under a Fidelius Charm.'

Daphne gave him a thoughtful look. 'Harry, there's a list of real estate in the ledger Director Ragnok gave you. If you hate this house so much, we should look if there's a suitable house for us to live in among the Potter properties.'

'I've never thought of that. I'd love to get out of here. Then maybe Andy and Teddy could move into this house. Money's been tight for Andy since her husband was killed, and I know she's got problems to pay the rent for her place. But she refuses to let me help her. It'll be different if I offer her to live here. Andy's a Black by birth.' Harry's eyes lit up. 'You're a genius, Daphne!'

He pulled the ledger out of his Mokeskin pouch, and Daphne pushed the cups and plates away so he could put it on the table between them. The blonde and the raven head bent over the ledger.

The list of real estate was amazingly long. Harry counted twenty-three properties, but only fourteen of them were in Britain. His parent's cottage in Godric's Hollow was listed among these, with the description "destroyed". Of the remaining thirteen houses, three were in Muggle areas without any protection. Two other houses were listed as business premises in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. There were two houses in Scotland and one house in Yorkshire, all of them under the Fidelius Charm.

'No way!' Daphne said. 'I've spent seven winters in Scotland, that's enough. I'm from Kent, so London's already way up north in my book!'

Harry laughed at that. 'So, the house on Anglesea's also out of the question?'

'Definitely!' Daphne shuddered. 'But what about these three? One in Devon, one in Cornwall and the last one even in London, all unplottable and under a Fidelius Charm.'

'The Weasleys live in Devon. I don't know if I want to have Mrs Weasley and Ginny that near to me right now,' Harry objected.

'Silly, they wouldn't be able to find you,' Daphne chuckled. 'All right, what do you think? Shall we have a look at the house in London first and then head to Cornwall?'

'That sounds good to me,' Harry nodded. 'Unfortunately, we don't know the Secret Keeper of the houses. We need to visit Gringotts and find out if they know them.'

Daphne perused the ledger. 'I don't think that'll be necessary,' she murmured. 'There's the name of an elf written beside the description of each house that's under the Fidelius Charm. I bet that elf is the Secret Keeper.'

'An elf?' Harry wondered.

'Why not?' his wife replied. 'Any living being with a soul can be made Secret Keeper. Actually, it's a brilliant idea to use a house elf. Their magic prevents them from betraying their master's secrets. Also, neither Voldemort nor one of his Death Eaters ever would've thought of using a house elf, so they never would've found out who the Secret Keeper was. I wonder why your parents didn't take that into account when they made Pettigrew their Secret Keeper.'

'We'll probably never know. All right, let's try this. Reggy!' he called.

CRACK!

A house elf Apparated into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He wore a pristine white tea towel toga, and the excitement in his tennis ball sized blue eyes was evident.

'Master Harry has finally called Reggy! Reggy is so happy!' the small creature cried and threw itself at Harry, hugging as much of him as it could gather in his arms.

By now used to the emotional creatures, Harry patted Reggy on the back. 'I'm also happy to see you, Reggy. Can you tell us where the Potter house in London is?'

Reggy pulled himself away from Harry. 'Reggy can do that. Master Fleamont and Mistress Euphy made Reggy Secret Keeper for their house in London.' He looked at Daphne and then threw a questioning glance at Harry.

'Oh, this is my wife Daphne,' Harry hurried to introduce her.

'Reggy has a mistress again!' the little elf gasped and then threw himself at Daphne. The young couple shared an amused smile behind his back. It took Reggy some time to calm down, but then he took them both by the hand and Apparated them away.

They found themselves in a thicket of bushes.

'This is the private Apparition point in Eaton Square Gardens,' Reggy explained. He pointed with his finger to a gate in the iron fence that enclosed the garden. 'That's the gate just opposite the house. Muggles can't see it. Fleamont House is on Eaton Square South number four b,' he told them and then Apparated away.

Harry and Daphne shared a look. When they walked through the gate, right in front of them the houses number three and number four seemed to jump to the side, and another house materialised between them.

'Magic never ceases to amaze me,' Harry said. He took Daphne's hand and led her over the street. When they approached the door, it was opened by a beaming Reggy. Beside him stood an obviously female house elf, also wrapped into a pristine white tea towel.

'Welcome to Fleamont House!' Reggy shouted, bouncing in excitement. 'This is Abby. She cooks and cares for mistress,' he introduced the female elf beside him.

Abby dropped a small curtsy. Though she seemed to be as excited as Reggy to finally meet her master and mistress, her demeanour was much calmer.

Harry and Daphne walked into the house. They found themselves in a long, bright hallway. Reggy gave them the tour of the house. He opened a door to the right, and ushered them in what seemed to be the library. This one, however, was much different from the library at Grimauld Place. It was a bright, long room. Two windows that faced the square let in the sunshine of the summer day. White bookshelves lined the walls. They were filled with an assortment of magical books as well as Muggle books. A huge sofa opposite of a fireplace was flanked by comfortable looking upholstered chairs.

'Oh, that's the perfect room for me!' Daphne exclaimed.

Harry chuckled. He had already found out that his new wife loved books as much as Hermione did, but wasn't by far as obsessed about them.

Tall double doors led from the library into a dining room that also boasted a fireplace, but had no window. The long, polished table could easily seat twelve.

A set of paned double doors led from the dining room into a breakfast area. It had floor to ceiling windows and a glassed ceiling, and blended seamlessly into the kitchen.

'Look, Harry, there's also a small back garden,' Daphne observed. She took him by the arm and pulled him gently to the window. A small patio, just big enough for a table and a couple of chairs, was surrounded by dense bushes and trees, thus offering absolute privacy.

Reggy then took them up to the first floor. There was a small study for Harry, and two large reception rooms. Each room was fully furnished and decorated in bright, tasteful colours. However, nothing seemed stiff or stilted, Harry noted. It was a house for a family to live in.

On the second floor they finally found the master suite, complete with a huge bathroom and walk-in closet. The bedroom had two tall windows that faced the square, and also boasted a fireplace. Daphne squealed with delight.

There was another smaller bedroom on this floor, but also with an ensuite bathroom.

The third floor had two additional bedrooms that had to share a bathroom, but also boasted a roof deck with a fantastic view over the square.

Harry and Daphne shared a look. 'It's fantastic, isn't it?' he asked.

'Absolutely!' she enthused. 'I'd love to live here. What about you?'

'Definitely,' he nodded. 'But let's also have a look at the house in Cornwall. While we were on the run, we stayed with Bill and Fleur Weasley for a couple of weeks. They live in Cornwall, in a cottage on a cliff that overlooks the sea. The place's fantastic. If the house in Cornwall's anything like that, I'd love to live there.'

Daphne nodded her agreement, and Harry called the house elf who was the Secret Keeper for the house in Cornwall. 'Sunny!'

CRACK!

Another elf Apparated into the room. He wore a tartan tea towel in black and gold with slim red and blue stripes.

Reggy's ears drooped when the other elf Apparated into the room. Daphne bent down until she was on eye level with him. 'Don't be sad, Reggy. The decision isn't made yet. I can also imagine that we might want to use both houses, one in summer and one in winter.' The elf brightened considerably at that.

Sunny was as excited to meet his master and mistress as Reggy had been. He wasted no time, took them by the hands and Apparated them away.

They appeared on a crescent beach that was framed by tall cliffs on both sides. In front of them a low wall divided the beach from what seemed to be an extensive lawn. Behind them, the sea shimmered in almost unreal shades of green and turquoise.

' _The Hideaway_ is at Long Cove, Cornwall,' Sunny told them, and in front of them a two-storey-house shimmered into view. Sunny walked ahead to the porch on the other side of the house.

The front door was opened by a female elf who was dressed in a tartan cloth like Sunny's. 'Is be Breezy,' she introduced herself and dropped a curtsy.

After they had greeted Breezy, Harry and Daphne got a tour of the house. The ground floor had a huge living room with a low, beamed ceiling and an ornate fireplace. There was a study for Harry, and a spacious dining room that also had a fireplace and boasted a floor to ceiling window that opened to the beach. An additional bay window offered a fantastic view on the cliffs. The kitchen was spacious and cosy. The long, white-scrubbed table and the wood stove reminded Harry of the Burrow. Off the kitchen was a small sun room that faced south.

The master bedroom was on the first floor, directly above the dining room.

'Whoa!' Harry exclaimed as he walked into the room. It was dominated by an ornately carved four poster bed. From the bed, you had a wonderful view on the beach through a tall window. A bay window, just like in the dining room, offered a view over the cliffs.

Harry and Daphne shared a look. 'The view reminds me of the house on the Seychelles,' he remarked.

'Yes, it does,' Daphne agreed and stepped beside him. 'I think we just found our new home, Harry. At least for the summer,' she amended. 'I imagine it can be pretty rough here during the autumn and winter storms.'

He put an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the temple. 'I think you're right, kitty. So, it's Cornwall in the summer and London during winter?'

'Yes!' Daphne exclaimed and threw her arms around her husband. He bent down and captured her lips with his. When they finally came up for air, they both had a goofy grin on their face.

 **MY**

It was harder than Harry had thought to tell Kreacher they would move out of Grimmauld Place. At first, the ancient elf had been inconsolable, and Harry crouched down on the kitchen floor and gathered the weeping Kreacher in his arms. But when he told him that he planned on giving the house to Andy and Teddy, Kreacher had perked up.

'Miss Andy bes always nice to Kreacher. Kreacher will take good care of Miss Andy and Master Harry's godson!'

However, Harry rendered the ancient elf speechless when he told him that he was to live in Master Regulus old room from now on and could take any Black family memorabilia to that room Andy didn't want to keep.

When Harry and Daphne finally left Grimmauld Place to move to _The Hideaway_ for the rest of the summer, Kreacher was already happily vanishing the furniture and Hippogriff manure in the old master bedroom to get it ready for Miss Andy.

 **MY**

Hand in hand, Harry and Daphne Apparated on the beach in front of _The Hideaway_. They walked up to the house. While Daphne organised their clothes in the huge wardrobe in their bedroom, Harry put the Banishing Box and the ledger on the desk in his study. He would have to work hard for the rest of the summer to learn more about the management of his family holdings, he mused. Still lost in his thoughts, he stepped in front of the window and admired the view on the beach.

That was where Daphne found him when she finally came downstairs. 'Harry,' she began as she stepped into the room, but was interrupted by the buzzing of the Banishing Box on Harry's desk. 'Damned shoebox!' she muttered, and went to get the mail, while Harry chuckled quietly.

She stepped to him, a letter in her hand. 'It's from mother,' she grimaced.

He watched her as she opened the letter, read it quickly and then frowned. 'Bad news?' he asked.

'That depends,' she answered. 'Mother invited us for dinner tonight. It's only the family. Tori returned home and mother wants to talk about the ball with us.'

Harry made a face. He didn't like the prospect of having dinner with his in-laws, and by the look on Daphne's face he knew she shared his sentiment. 'Let me guess,' he said. 'You don't want to talk to your parents, but you can't wait to see your sister again.'

Daphne nodded. 'That, and of course we owe it to mother because she hosts the ball for us.'

He grimaced again and ran a hand through his hair. 'All right. Write her that we accept. I guess I can live through one dinner with your father.'

'Thank you, Harry,' Daphne smiled and pecked him on the cheek. She then went to the desk to answer her mother's letter.

 **MY**

They spent the afternoon lazing, reading and talking on a blanket on the beach until it was time to get ready for the dinner at Lovelace House.

'You look gorgeous,' Harry complimented his wife when they walked out of the house to the Apparition point. She had donned conservatively cut lavender coloured robes and put her hair in a bun on the nape of her neck again. Soft ringlets framed the sides of her face, and she had completed the look with a pearl necklace and matching earrings from the Potter Family Vault.

'Thank you, you also clean up nicely,' she returned his compliment. He wore the same robes as on the day they had told her parents of their marriage, but Daphne had Transfigured the dark blue of the outer robes to a deep burgundy red.

They were let into the house by Tapsy, who ushered them to the Yellow Parlour. That was the place where the family met before dinner when they didn't entertain guests, Daphne had told him.

Isabella and Cyrus Greengrass were already in the room, together with a young girl who looked like a carbon copy of Daphne. Cyrus Greengrass stood near the fireplace, a glass in his hand, while the two women sat on the sofa, side by side.

Isabella got up when the young couple entered the room and walked to them with outstretched arms. 'Daphne, Harry, how lovely you could make it!'

She exchanged a hug with her oldest daughter. Again, Harry noticed how forced the two women looked.

Daphne's mother then held out her hand to her son-in-law. By now, Harry knew what was expected of him without Daphne needing to coach him. He caught Isabella's hand in his and kissed her knuckles. 'Isabella! As beautiful as always, I see.'

'Charmer,' she replied, obviously flattered. She beckoned to her younger daughter. 'Harry, may I introduce my younger daughter Astoria to you? Astoria, this is your brother-in-law, Harry Potter.'

The young girl also held her hand out to him. Her violet blue eyes examined him critically. 'How do you do, Mr Potter.'

'Harry,' he corrected and kissed her knuckles. 'And may I call you Tori? Daphne told me so much about you, it feels weird to call you Astoria.'

Her critical gaze got a bit softer. 'You may,' she conceded. She then turned to her older sister and hugged her, while Harry walked to the fireplace to exchange a handshake with Cyrus Greengrass.

'Sir!'

'Potter!' the older man acknowledged while he shook Harry's hand.

He and his father-in-law would probably never be able to do more than barely tolerate each other's presence in one room, Harry mused as he took the glass of sherry Tapsy offered him. That was all right with him. He still resented the older man the way he had treated Daphne, so that she had to run away lest not to become the object of a despicable bargain. His and Daphne's marriage might not be a match made in heaven, but at least he treated his wife much better than her own father ever did.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Tapsy, who announced that dinner was ready. Cyrus and Isabella led the way to the dining room, while Harry followed, with Daphne and Tori each on one of his arms.

Dinner dragged on in an almost unbearable manner. Isabella dominated the conversation, telling Daphne everything about the preparations for the ball, while Cyrus Greengrass ate in silence, ignoring everyone.

'Since you've already taken your vows, it won't be a typical wedding reception, but rather a normal ball given in your honour,' Isabella explained to her oldest daughter while she spooned her soup. 'We'll have dinner with the closest family and friends of bride and groom before. Is that all right with you, daughter?'

A mischievous gleam appeared in Daphne's eyes. She turned to Harry, who had listened to the conversation between mother and daughter with only half an ear, and put her hand on his arm. 'Do you agree with mother's suggestions, my husband?' she asked formally.

One look in her eyes told Harry that she was taking the mickey. However, one month into his marriage he already had learned the diplomatic answer all husbands all over the world had down pat. 'I'm happy with everything you decide, my dear!' he deadpanned.

Beside him, Tori almost choked at her wine. 'Good move!' she told him from the corner of her mouth.

Harry gave her a lopsided grin, and she chuckled quietly.

Isabella then moved on to the guest list for the proposed dinner. 'It's most unfortunate that your parents are dead, Harry,' she told her son-in-law, oblivious to the irritated gasp that escaped her daughter's lips at her insensitive words. 'However, I found a first cousin of your father's, Alex Potter, and his wife Susanne. They live in Switzerland since more than twenty years. Your aunt and uncle declined my invitation, but your cousin will be attending our ball.' She paused to dab her mouth with her napkin.

Harry wasn't able to reply. His mind reeled. So, Daphne had been right. He still had living relatives from his father's side. They lived outside of England. Was that the explanation why they never came looking for him? Also, he was not sure how he felt of Dudley attending a ball in a Wizarding home. He hadn't assumed for one second that his uncle and aunt would accept Isabella's invitation, and thought that would prevent Dudley also from coming.

A small hand stole into his and slender fingers interlaced with his longer ones. He looked up from the tablecloth on which he had been staring for the last seconds, directly into Daphne's beautiful deep blue eyes. They were full of compassion and support, and a feeling of comfort washed over him. He returned the gentle pressure of her hand, and smiled his thanks at her.

With a relieved breath, Daphne pulled her hand away.

Oblivious to Harry's discomfort and the silent exchange between the newlyweds, Isabella went on. 'Molly and Arthur Weasley also had to decline my invitation. They're in Romania, together with one of their sons and their daughter. They'll send their oldest son William and his wife in their stead.'

She paused, took a sip of wine and then went on, 'However, I'm not disappointed that your friend Hagrid declined my invitation, Harry. He's also travelling. I must say, you have some strange friends!'

Harry and Daphne exchanged another look, this time hardly suppressing the mirth that welled up in them.

'I'm most pleased that Minister Shacklebolt and his fiancé accepted my invitation, though. I had no idea you were that well connected, Harry.' The satisfaction in Isabella's voice was evident.

Harry chuckled inwardly, thinking of how Daphne had described her mother as a social snob.

'I didn't know you were friends with Neville Longbottom, Harry. Did Daphne tell you that he's related to her by the Greengrass side? He's always been kind of the laughing stock of the family. I haven't seen him for ages.'

He put down his fork and knife and gave his mother in law a polite smile, though he seethed inside. 'Yes, she told me. Neville and I were roommates at Gryffindor. He's one of my oldest friends and by far the most reliable of them. I daresay you're in for a surprise when you'll see him at the ball, Isabella. There's nothing left of the shy, chubby child you remember.'

Isabella shrugged at that. 'He was always such an awkward child.' She motioned at Tapsy to remove the plates and serve the second course.

'I'm also not impressed that you're friends with Luna Lovegood, Harry,' she told her son-in-law. 'The Lovegoods are an old family, of course, though they don't belong to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but so eccentric! And don't get me started on that rag of a newspaper Xenophilius publishes!'

'Nevertheless, it was that rag of a newspaper, as you call it, Isabella, that dared to print the truth about Voldemort during the war when everyone else had their head in their arse,' Harry replied. His green eyes had become hard and glared at her.

Isabella let out an exaggerated shriek when he mentioned Voldemort's name. Her cutlery clattered on her plate.

Beside her, Daphne cut her meat without showing any emotion at the mentioning of Voldemort's name. His wife had never shown the irrational fear of the name that most Purebloods had, Harry remembered with pride. To their credit, neither Astoria nor Cyrus Greengrass had even flinched, too.

Isabella faltered under his stare, though she went not so far as to apologise. Ignoring Harry, she addressed her oldest daughter again. 'Of course, I had to invite my brother and his wife. Shockingly boring people, unfortunately.'

Daphne's face brightened at her words. 'I haven't seen Uncle Gordon and Aunt Mary for ages!'

His wife's reaction told Harry that her uncle and aunt were very different from his in-laws, and he found himself looking forward to making their acquaintance.

'Your cousin Morag will be with them. Such a plain girl, though she managed to contract herself into an acceptable betrothal,' Isabella continued, and took another sip of wine. She was already on her third glass, Harry noticed, and so was her husband, while the young people had not even emptied their first glass.

'Oh, that's wonderful news,' Daphne exclaimed. 'Who will she be marrying?'

'The Macmillan heir. His fortune is acceptable, I've been told, but he's not much to look at,' Isabella stated.

'Morag and Ernie have been dating for over a year,' Daphne smiled. 'I bet she's over the moon!' Her mother huffed at that, but Daphne ignored her and turned to Harry. 'I believe, you're friendly with Ernie Macmillan, Harry?'

Harry put down his cutlery and dabbed his mouth. 'Yes, I am. Ernie's a good man, very loyal as all Hufflepuffs. I don't know his bride, though.'

'You'll like Morag,' Daphne assured him. 'She's a sweet girl, though a little on the quiet side.'

'Sounds like the perfect match for Ernie,' Harry laughed. 'He tends to be a little pompous.'

Daphne joined his laughter. Isabella's next words, however, wiped the laughter off her face.

'Of course, I also invited your only remaining roommate from Slytherin to dinner, Daphne. Alas, the Bullstrodes fled to the continent when You-Know-Who was defeated.'

'Pansy? Why in the world did you invite her, mother? You know we can't stand each other!' Daphne looked at her mother as if she had lost her mind.

Ignoring her daughter's discomfort, Isabella took her glass and sipped. She gave Daphne a malicious glance over the rim of the glass and said, 'You'll be happy to hear that Pansy also is betrothed. To Theodore Nott, can you imagine? Of course, he'll be her date on our ball.'

Daphne jumped.

Harry felt a wave of hot ire welling up in his stomach. How did Isabella dare to invite the man who had tried to blackmail Daphne into an unwanted marriage to him to the ball held in honour of their wedding? He took Daphne's hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, feeling her tension. Aloud he said, 'I'm sure they're a very well matched couple!'

That had Daphne snort, and Harry felt how her fingers relaxed in his.

Beside him, Tori chuckled. 'That was brilliant, Harry!' she whispered.

Daphne had recovered from her shock. 'Are there any other unpleasant surprises on the dinner guest list, mother?' she asked coolly.

'Unpleasant surprises! Really, Daphne, you're exaggerating! After all, they were your house mates for seven years!' Isabela chastised her. Again, she sipped from her glass. 'I've invited Lisa Turpin. You were friendly with her, weren't you? She's coming with her fiancé, Terry Boot.'

Daphne and Harry brightened at that.

'Oh, I'd love to see Lisa again!' Daphne exclaimed, while Harry said, 'It'll be great to talk to Terry. I saw him briefly after the battle, but we didn't have time to catch up.'

Meanwhile, they had come to dessert. Cyrus Greengrass, however, excused himself with an appointment with an important business partner at his club before the last curse was served. The strained atmosphere lightened considerably as soon as he left the room.

'Is he still having an affair with Verity Flint?' Daphne asked and dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

'Daphne!' Isabella gasped.

'Oh, come on, mother! Harry's family now. He'll find out soon enough about our dirty little secrets,' Daphne replied coolly.

Harry took another sip of wine, wisely deciding to stay out of this.

'That came to an end shortly after you ran away, Daffy,' Tori interjected. 'I believe, he's now after Patricia Parkinson.'

'As always, his taste leaves a lot to be desired,' Daphne observed and motioned to Tapsy to take her plate away.

Scarlet spots had appeared on Isabella's cheekbones. 'Just you wait, daughter, that young husband of yours is also going to cheat on you as soon as you are with child!'

Daphne gave Harry a soft smile. 'I don't think so, mother,' she replied.

'You mean our vows see to it that I never will, so that I won't lose my magic,' Harry told her under his breath, though he had to grin.

Daphne put her hand on his hand. 'No, Harry. I meant you're not a cheating bastard,' she said clearly.

Isabella threw her napkin on her plate and rushed out of the room in a huff.

Daphne and Tori exchanged a look and then shrugged their shoulders.

'Welcome to the family, Harry,' Tori finally grinned at him. 'Now you've seen the sophisticated Greengrass family at their worst!' She turned to her sister. 'Merlin, you don't know how much I've missed you, Daffy! It's dead boring here without you!'

Daphne's eyes grew soft. 'I've also missed you, Tori.'

Harry looked from his wife to his sister-in-law. 'Why don't you ask your sister to stay with us for the rest of the holidays, kitty?'

Daphne's eyes brightened. She threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the lips. 'You're the best, Harry!' she squealed.

Tori regarded her sister's open display of affection with wide eyes, while Daphne called for Tapsy and asked him to pack Tori's things for a prolonged stay with the Potters and send them at _The_ _Hideaway._

'Don't you have to tell your mother you're coming with us, Tori?' Harry asked when he led both young women outside of the wards to Side-Along-Apparate them to _The Hideaway_.

'Tapsy will tell her tomorrow,' Tori replied. 'Tonight, mother is indisposed.' She made a telltale gesture with her hand, as if knocking back a drink.

'Oh!' Harry mouthed.

'She wouldn't care, anyway,' Daphne added. 'The less she sees of Tori and I, the happier she is.'

Tori nodded to that.

 **MY**

When they arrived at _The Hideaway_ and Sammy had given the secret to Tori as Harry had asked him, Daphne showed her sister to one of the spare bedrooms.

Harry went to their bedroom, glad that he could finally get out of the stiff dress robes. He changed into his pyjamas and laid down, his arms folded behind his head, and thinking of the dynamics of the Greengrass family. The thought that parents could be completely indifferent to their own children chilled him to the bone. He recalled how Daphne had been with Teddy. How could someone who grew up in such an icy surrounding as the Greengrass household become such a warm and caring person?

He must have dozed off, because he started when Daphne came into the room. She had changed her formal robes for a very short nightgown of powder-blue satin that was held up by the thinnest spaghetti straps possible, and she had let her hair down.

Harry looked at her appreciatively. 'Is this the nightgown you never came around showing me during our honeymoon?'

'Yes,' she confirmed and climbed into the bed beside him. 'Do you like it?'

'Lovely,' he replied, while he turned around and took her in his arms. He nuzzled her neck and felt how she shivered with delight under his ministrations. 'Though I doubt it will stay on you much longer,' he grinned.

'I'd be disappointed if that were the case, Harry,' she purred and kissed him deeply.

 **MY**

The next morning, they walked down to the kitchen hand in hand.

Tori already sat at the table. She smiled as they walked into the room. 'You look sickeningly sweet together.'

'Thank you, sis,' Daphne replied and sat down beside Harry.

Tori propped up her elbows on the table. She looked from Daphne to Harry and back. 'I still don't get it how you ended up married. I didn't even know you knew each other! One day mother tells me that you've run away, Daffy, and father and Nott yell at each other behind the doors of father's study ...'

'Father was always lousy at silencing spells,' Daphne remarked and spread jam on her toast.

'... and four weeks later I get a letter from mother, telling me you presented Harry as your husband to our parents,' Tori continued, ignoring her sister. She grinned at Harry. 'Mother wrote me how you trounced father's arse. I wish I could have seen that!' She turned back to her older sister. 'Out with it, Daffy! How did you get married to Harry Potter? Or aren't you married at all, as the "Daily Prophet" implies?'

Daphne and Harry looked at each other and laughed. 'Oh, we are married, there's no doubt about that,' Daphne said. 'But it was also rather surprising for us, wasn't it, Harry?' She looked at her husband for support.

'No kidding,' he affirmed. 'Don't give me that look, kitty. It's enough that I have to tell my friends; you can tell your sister.'

She mock-glared at him, but then turned to her sister. 'Well, it all began when I agreed to go out on a date with that bloke ...'

Tori hung at her lips while Daphne told the story how she and Harry had met in that pub, got drunk together and discovered the next morning that they had managed to enter into the strictest magical marriage bond possible.

'But you could have annulled the marriage,' Tori exclaimed when she ended her story.

Daphne and Harry looked at each other and again dissolved into laughter. 'It was already too late for that when we discovered we were married,' Daphne got out between fits of laughter.

'What do you mean, too late?' Tori asked. Then it dawned on her. 'Oh.' Her face pinked.

That set the young couple off again.

'Well, at least you seem to be really happy about your marriage,' Tori said.

The mirth vanished from their faces. Daphne pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'It wasn't like that right from the beginning,' she told her sister softly. 'We had to work hard on our relationship to get where we are now.' She looked at Harry for support.

'When I discovered I was married to your sister, my first reaction was to blame each and everyone, and especially Daphne, for the fact that I'd managed to screw up my life,' Harry began.

Daphne laughed quietly. 'Yeah, I had a similar reaction.'

He gave her a lopsided grin. 'However, in all fairness I had to acknowledge that I was just as responsible for our situation as she was.' He took her hand and gave her a quick kiss on the knuckles.

Daphne picked up from there. 'As soon as we acknowledged we both were to blame, we decided to find a way to get through this without that we'd lose our sanity and our magic. We made the deliberate decision to live together as a couple, with everything that entails.' She smiled at Harry. 'It was surprisingly easy. I think there was a strong attraction between us right from the beginning and the alcohol we consumed that night made us let down our guards and act upon that.'

Harry nodded to that.

'I can't speak for Harry, but so far I've only benefitted from our marriage. Being married to Harry is so much better than being married to Nott!'

'Thank you, dear. I think,' Harry deadpanned, and the three young people broke out into laughter.

He noticed the expectant look Tori gave him and sighed. Of course she wanted to know how dedicated he was to her sister. It was plain to see that the two sisters cared deeply for each other and that Tori wanted to be sure that Daphne would be happy. But he couldn't give her that promise. He had no idea how to love somebody. He had thought he had come close to that with Ginny, but their relationship had crumbled as soon as it was put to the first test. He didn't expect anything more from his relationship to Daphne than friendship and contentment.

'We get along amazingly well,' he told Tori and ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'We've become friends. That's a common ground we can start from.'

Tori didn't answer to that immediately. Then she smiled. 'That's all right, Harry. But don't you think you can fool me for one second.'

Harry had no idea what that cryptic remark meant and turned to his breakfast.

Unnoticed by him, Tori gave a knowing smile to her sister that got even brighter when Daphne glared in response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's notes:** Updated and partly rewritten version.

 **MY**

The remaining days of July ran like sand through Harry's fingers. After their long honeymoon the Goblins as well as his Muggle managers demanded his presence. Andromeda unknowingly added to his strain when he met her in Diagon Alley. He was on his way from Twillfitt and Tattings to another meeting with Director Ragnok, when Andromeda waved at him from the other side of the street. She had Teddy with her, and of course he had to stop to say hello to her and his godson.

'You look as if you are in a hurry, Harry,' she observed.

'I am,' he admitted, while he tickled the belly of the happily gurgling infant. 'I've just picked up my robes for Isabella's da...rned ball and am now on my way to Gringotts.'

'I don't want to detain you, but speaking of the ball, there's something I think you need to know. You already gave Daphne a family heirloom, but it's also custom that the groom gives the bride jewellery of her own to remember the wedding.'

Harry rubbed his neck with his hand. 'Merlin, you mean I have to get a wedding present for Daphne? I don't know how and when I'll be able to do that, but thanks for the heads up!' He tickled Teddy's tummy one last time, gave Andy a quick hug and was on his way to Gringotts again.

His meeting with Director Ragnok took longer than he had anticipated. But there was still time enough to look for a wedding present afterwards. Harry had no idea where to shop for jewellery, but he was smart enough to ask Director Ragnok. The ancient Goblin recommended Bangles and Knuckelduster's on Diagon Alley, or Tiffany's in Muggle London. One look at the display of the jeweller on Diagon Alley told Harry that he would find nothing there that would meet the approval of his bride. At least he couldn't imagine Daphne wanting to wear necklaces that were overfraught with jewels the size of the jewels on the Imperial State Crown. So, he headed into Muggle London.

Thirty minutes later he found the perfect present for Daphne: a diamond necklace, made of diamonds of different cuts, and arranged in the shape of little stars, with matching earrings. It looked simple, yet sophisticated, and he knew that Daphne would love it. She deserved a nice present, he thought. They wouldn't have sailed through their marriage without any major fights so far if her matter-of-fact attitude and her talent to adapt to their strange relationship hadn't taught him to learn how to compromise and to show her the same consideration. He wanted to show her how much he appreciated that.

He returned considerably later than he told Daphne he would in the morning, but when he peeked into the living room, Daphne and Tori were curled up each in one corner of the couch, and talking a mile a minute. Obviously he had not been missed, so he headed up to his bedroom and put the jewellery box in the drawer of his bedside table.

 **MY**

On the 31st of July Harry and Daphne walked down to the kitchen hand in hand. The day had already begun on a pleasant note for Harry, when his wife woke him up with a kiss, so it was not surprising that he had a broad grin on his face.

The grin got even broader when he entered the kitchen and was serenaded with a round of _Happy Birthday_ by Tori, Sunny and Breezy. A birthday cake with eighteen candles burning on it was on the table, and a stack of parcels and letters sat next to his usual place.

After he had been hugged by Tori and his elves, and he had blown out the candles, they sat down for breakfast. Breezy had prepared all his favourites, and Harry tugged in with a hearty appetite. Then it was time to open the parcels and letters.

There was a t-shirt from Kreacher, Sunny and Breezy, which had _Bestest Master Ever_ printed on it. Tori had bought him _Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories Part 1_ and _Part 2_ by Arthur Conan Doyle. Hermione had sent him a book about the _Magic of Australia,_ and from Ron he got a boomerang.

'That's a surprise. I really thought he'd ignore my birthday because I broke up with Ginny and married you, Daphne,' Harry remarked. He couldn't keep the relief out of his voice. That Ron had sent him a birthday present hopefully meant that he had overcome his anger. Maybe their friendship would also weather this storm.

He left Daphne's present for last. It was a small, oblong parcel, and when Harry unwrapped it, he found a mechanical Muggle style white gold watch.

'I've noticed that you don't wear a watch, and thought you'd like to have one,' she explained. 'This one will work when around magic, but won't gain suspicion when you're in the Muggle world.'

Harry looked at the watch in his hand. It looked simple, but was a masterpiece of Swiss watchmaker art, and was obviously manufactured in a limited edition, as the low serial number on the back of the watch suggested. He had put away the watch of Fabian Prewett the day he had left the Burrow. Somehow he felt as if he didn't have the right to wear that watch any longer. He had got that watch on his seventeenth birthday because the Weasleys had become his surrogate family. He had lost that family, but now Daphne was his family and had given him a new watch. He couldn't think of a more fitting birthday present.

He leaned forward, and kissed his wife gently on the lips. 'Thank you, kitty. You don't know how much that means to me!' He put the new watch on his wrist. It looked elegant, but without attracting attention.

He then turned to the stack of letters. Most of them were well wishes from wizards and witches from all over Britain. But there also was a summons from Gringotts for a meeting that very morning. Harry looked at his new watch, and swore under his breath. 'There's no way I'm following a summons from Gringotts on such a short notice!'

Daphne frowned. 'May I look at the letter, Harry?'

'You're welcome,' he grumbled, and handed the letter to her.

Her frown got even deeper while she read. 'I don't think you'd want to miss this meeting. It sounds to me as if this has something to do with Sirius' estate you can only get access to when you're at least eighteen. The Goblins don't take it kindly when you don't turn up for meetings like this. It even might cost you the right to claim whatever it is this letter is about.'

Harry grumbled some more, but got up. He was well aware that Daphne knew more of the strange customs of the Wizarding world than he did, and that he would be well advised to do as she told him.

He kissed Daphne on the cheek in good bye, and ran out of the house. Five minutes later he hurried down Diagon Alley. Rather out of breath he entered Gringotts just in time. To his amazement, he wasn't ushered to Director Ragnok, but a Goblin named Sharptooth.

'Good morning, Mr Potter. Glad you could make it on time. After all, time is gold.' Sharptooth greeted him. The Goblin opened a ledger in front of him.

'I asked you to this meeting to discuss the holdings of the Black family.'

Harry frowned. He knew that Sirius had made him his heir. But there hadn't been more to inherit than the content of Sirius' vault. At least that was what Dumbledore had told him when he came to take him to the Weasleys in the summer before his sixth year. But when had Dumbledore ever been completely open with him, the pesky voice in the back of his head asked.

Sharptooth' next words answered his questions.

'While the content of the personal vault of the late Mr Black has been added to your vault immediately, the Black House Charter demands another course of action for the remaining holdings. Per to the regulations of the house charter, you couldn't access them before your eighteenth birthday, which means today. In this ledger, you'll find a list of assets belonging to the Black estate. The income from the estate is added to the Black Trust Vault, from where the Head of house can distribute it to the family members as he sees fit. As Head of House Black, it's up to you which family members you acknowledge or whom you want to disinherit. Also, don't forget to take the necessary steps with the Wizengamot to take up the Black seat. I think that's all for today. Good bye, Mr Potter.'

The ledger was thrust into Harry's hands, and the next moment he found himself outside of Sharptooth' office.

Slightly dazzled, Harry made his way back to _The Hideaway._ Daphne and Tori were still at the breakfast table. He gave Daphne a kiss on the cheek and then slumped into the chair beside her.

She eyed him critically. 'You look like you've been hit by a Bludger, Harry. What happened?'

'Even more inheritances,' he groaned. He propped his elbows up on the table and covered his face with his hands. 'I just found out that there's more to the inheritage I got from Sirius than the contents of his vault. Also, I have to take up the Black seat on the Wizengamot, it seems.'

'Congratulations, Harry, that's a huge honour,' Tori said, while Daphne rubbed his back soothingly.

'Unfortunately, an honour I'm not prepared for,' he replied, taking his hand off his face and looking at his sister-in-law.

Unaffected by his plight, she said, 'You'll manage. I mean, how difficult can it be? All you have to do is sit there and listen and give your vote every now and then. You'll probably have problems to stay awake, just as in Binns' class.'

Harry had the distinct feeling it wasn't as simple as that. He looked at his wife, trying to discern her opinion. One look on her face told him that it wouldn't be as easy as Tori thought, but he could also read steadfast support in her eyes.

'You'll need a mentor during your first year, Harry, who'll show you how things are done on the Winzengamot. Not so much the written laws, but all these pesky, little unwritten rules you have to observe not to put your foot in your mouth. Normally, that would've been father, but I doubt I can persuade him to advise you. Let me think about it, I'm sure I'll find someone else you can ask.'

He breathed a sigh of relief, and grasped her hand. 'Thank you, Daphne. At least one of us knows what to do.'

 **MY**

On the day of the ball, Daphne and Tori left for _Lovelace House_ in the early afternoon. Daphne wanted to get ready in her old room so that she didn't have to Apparate in her ball robes. Harry had refused to come with her. The less time he had to spend under the roof of his in-laws, the better. Thankfully, Daphne had been understanding.

He looked at his new watch, and saw it was time for him to get ready for the ball, so he walked up to their room. Before he hit the shower, however, he called for Kreacher.

With a CRACK, the ancient house elf appeared, overjoyed that Harry had called him.

Harry took the jewellery box out of the drawer of his bedside table. It looked a trifle plain to him, so he Conjured a pink rose he put on top of the box. 'Please, take this to Daphne, Kreacher. She's at her parent's house, _Lovelace House_ in Kent.'

Kreacher bowed and took the box. The next moment he was gone.

Harry took his time to get ready. His evening robes were thankfully not as bad as the formal dress robes Daphne had insisted on during the previous visits to her parent's house. In fact, the evening robes looked very similar to a Muggle dinner jacket, only with an open, lapelled robe worn over shirt and trousers.

After trying to tame his unruly hair for about fifteen minutes, Harry gave up and decided it was time to get on his way.

Ten minutes later, Tapsy ushered him into the Blue Parlour. 'The rest of the family will be with you presently, Master Harry,' the elf told him, and then Apparated away for some last minute errand in preparation for the ball.

Harry made a face as he ambled to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, scorning the uncomfortable gilded chairs. He could only hope that Daphne would be the first to join him, and that he wouldn't be forced to a gruelling time spent alone with Cyrus Greengrass. His silent plea was heard by which deity ever. The door opened, and Daphne entered the room.

She wore an off-white ball robe with silver trimmings. Made of shimmering satin, it had a tight fitting bodice, and the skirt flared out gracefully from her hips. She had put her hair up in the simple bun he liked, with soft curls framing her face, and wore barely any make up.

The diamonds sparkled around her neck and in her earlobes. She looked every bit the Ice Queen they had called her back at school, but there was no trace of coldness in her eyes the moment they met his. Her eyes beamed with happiness and joy. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. 'Harry! You shouldn't have!' she exclaimed.

He slid his arms around her waist and smiled at her. 'To be honest, Andromeda reminded me that it's custom for the groom to give the bride jewellery of her own. Besides that...' He hesitated, but then he reminded himself that he was a Gryffindor. 'You deserve a nice present. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate the effort you put in us,' he added softly and blushed.

They looked at each other for a long moment. He had the distinct feeling that something shifted between them that second, but she left him no time to dwell on that when she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, full of tenderness, and made Harry feel as if he was going to melt to a puddle at her feet.

A slight coughing behind them brought them back to reality. They exchanged a small smile, both not feeling happy about the interruption, and turned around, still one arm around the other.

Tori grinned knowingly at them. 'Mother and father will be here any second, so I suggest you two lovebirds restrain yourselves and behave like it's expected from proper Purebloods.'

Daphne frowned at her little sister, but then schooled her face into a polite society mask. She put her hand on Harry's arm. 'All right, Harry. Let's face the harpies!'

Harry tried his best to emulate her calm behaviour as he waited with his wife to meet her parents.

Cyrus Greengrass entered the room, Isabella on his arm. They had both dressed in richly embroidered and very conservative robes, Harry noticed. Tori's robe, on the other hand, was designed to match Daphne's, only her dress was made of soft blue chiffon crepe.

Harry barely had time to greet his in-laws, and compliment his sister-in-law, before Tapsy announced the first guests.

'The Minister for Magic, Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Miss Hestia Jones. Mr Dudley Dursley!'

Kingsley entered the room, Hestia on his arm, and Dudley close behind them. As always, Kingsley was dressed in resplendent purple robes. Hestia had dressed much more conservatively in dark blue lace robes over a satin tunic. They stopped to greet their hosts and introduced Dudley, who wore a smart Muggle dinner jacket. He had grown a few inches since Harry had seen him the last time, and lost every ounce of fat he once possessed, but gained an impressing set of muscles instead. The neatly combed parting his mother had insisted upon had been replaced by a short cropped and spiked haircut.

Harry almost fainted with shock as he watched his mother-in-law ogling his cousin.

'I can't blame mother. You've never told me what a hunk your cousin is, Harry!' Daphne chuckled beside him.

'He wasn't like this when I last saw him. You won't believe me when I tell you what a whale he was,' Harry replied. 'And by the way, Mrs Potter, why are you swooning over another man in front of your husband on your wedding ball?'

'I'm not swooning, I'm stating a fact,' Daphne told him. 'Blond body-builders are not my type. I prefer lean, black-haired men, in particular the one who's just standing beside me.'

'Good answer,' he grinned. They had to stop their banter, because Kingsley, Hestia and Dudley now moved on to greet them.

Kingsley bent over Daphne's hand and kissed her knuckles. 'My sincerest congratulations on your marriage, Mrs Potter!'

'Thank you, Minister Shacklebolt,' Daphne replied.

Kingsley then turned to Harry. 'Harry, my heartfelt congratulations,' he boomed and shook Harry's hand. 'Though, I have to confess that you caught me by surprise with your marriage.'

Harry laughed. 'Believe me, Kingsley, Daphne and I were also caught by surprise.'

'Ah, so you had a whirlwind romance?' Kingsley winked at him. He sobered and added in a much quieter voice. 'I've to tell you, Harry, that I'm very pleased with your choice for your wife. This union is certainly more beneficial to you than the relationship you pursued before.' He had to step aside to make room for Hestia, who congratulated Harry with a hug.

Finally, it was Dudley's turn. 'Congratulations, Harry,' he said awkwardly, after he had kissed Daphne's hand. Someone, most likely Hestia or Kingsley, must have tutored him about Pureblood customs. 'It's pretty decent of you to invite me to your wedding reception, considering...'

'Considering you didn't think me a waste of space,' Harry interrupted him. 'How are you, Big D? It's good to see you again.' To his surprise, Harry realised he meant what he said.

Dudley shifted from one foot to the other. 'Say, Harry, can we meet some time and - talk?'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'Sure,' he replied. Then a thought hit him. 'I'll send you an owl with a place and date, all right?'

'All right. Mum and dad will love it.' The two cousins shared an unholy grin, but then Dudley had to make room for the next guests.

'Harry, my congratulations!' Bill beamed, and pulled him into a hug.

Fleur followed suit, kissing him on both cheeks, and then hugged him.

After Bill and Fleur, Daphne's Aunt Mary and her Uncle Gordon were next in line to greet them. One look at them told Harry why Isabella had dismissed them as boring.

Mary McDougal was an unremarkable woman in her late forties, with mouse brown hair, and on the pudgy side. She wore rather simple evening robes in an unbecoming shade of tan that made her even more melt into the background. However, she had a ready smile, and welcomed Harry into the family with warmth. Her husband was considerably older than her. He was a portly man with a ring of greyish, at one time probably blond hair around his gleaming bald head. 'It's an honour to meet you, Mr Potter. Young Ernie speaks very highly of you!'

'Thank you, Mr McDougal. But please, call me Harry.'

'Only if you call me Gordon, _balach._ '

He had to move on to make room for his future son-in-law. Ernie gave Harry a perfectly executed bow and handshake. However, Harry didn't want any of that. He pulled Ernie in a one-armed hug and slapped him on the back. 'Ernie, mate, it's good to see you!'

Ernie laughed, and returned the hug. 'It's good to see you, too, Harry! Who would've thought that you'll get married to the first cousin of my fiancé, of all people! That'll make us cousins-in-law!'

'I can think of a worse fate than being related to you, Ernie!' Harry chuckled. His attention was demanded by Daphne, who called out to him, her arm around a girl of their age who looked like a younger copy of her Aunt Mary. Harry vaguely recognised the girl as one of the Hufflepuffs who had hung around Susan Bones.

'Morag, that's my husband, Harry Potter. Harry, meet my dear cousin Morag, soon to be Mrs Ernie Macmillan.'

Harry bent over Morag's hand. 'My heartfelt congratulations, Morag! You won't regret your choice; Ernie's a true Hufflepuff, loyal to the bone and hard working.'

'Thank you, Harry,' she replied in a soft voice. 'I also wish you and Daphne all the happiness in the world.'

Ernie slid his arm around his fiancé's waist and looked at Harry and Daphne. 'You'll come to our wedding, won't you?'

'Of course we will. We wouldn't miss your wedding for anything in the world, won't we, Harry?' Daphne said.

'Absolutely not!' Harry confirmed. He turned around to greet the next guests, and froze.

The man in front of him was about his height. He had raven-coloured hair that seemed to be resistant to any efforts of a brush or comb, and showed first traces of silver at the temples. His hazel eyes were hidden behind stylish wire framed spectacles. The man looked like James Potter would have looked, had he lived to see his fortieth birthday.

The colour drained from Harry's face, and he reeled.

The stranger quickly grabbed him by the elbow and steadied him. 'I'm sorry, Harry. Did nobody warn you how much James and I looked alike? I'm Alex Potter. Your father and I were first cousins, which makes us first cousins once removed.'

Harry blinked, trying to get a grip on himself. 'It's uncanny. You look just like him.'

'Our mothers used to call us almost twins, though I'm two years older than your father,' Alex Potter smiled. 'However, we didn't grow up together. My parents moved to Switzerland when I was about five years old. Dad got a job with the IWC, and eventually they took on the Swiss citizenship.' He then introduced the woman beside him. 'Please, meet my wife, Susanne.'

Harry automatically bent over the hand of the stately blonde woman, who seemed to be of the same age as Alex, and said what was expected of him, though he wouldn't have been able to recall his words had anyone asked him. With a pensive expression on his face he watched how the Potters mingled with the other guests.

Daphne gently touched his arm with her hand.

He smiled into her concerned eyes. 'I'm good, Daphne.'

She didn't look as if she was convinced, but the arrival of the next guests prevented her from pursuing that topic any longer. Neville, Hannah, Luna and Dean had arrived together.

As her cousin, Neville congratulated Daphne with a kiss on her cheek, and then turned to Harry. Three months after the battle, Neville had lost the emaciated look he had had when he led Harry, Ron and Hermione from the _Hog's Head_ to the Room of Requirement. Even though he looked healthy, lean and muscular, the scars he had obtained during the terror regime of the Carrows had not yet faded, and probably never would, Harry mused, since they had been inflicted upon him by dark magic.

Neville shook Harry's hand, and then slapped him on the shoulder. 'Congratulations, mate! Now, I never would've seen this coming, Harry! I didn't even know you two knew each other!'

'You know, Neville, the lesson I've learned from last year is to take my chances, or they'd be lost. So, when Daphne and I met, I didn't waste any time,' Harry replied with a smile.

'Nobody can blame you on that,' Neville chuckled. Then he sobered. 'How did Hermione and Ron take your surprise announcement? Why are they not here?'

Harry grimaced. 'Not good, I'm afraid. They're still in Australia, searching for Hermione's parents, so I couldn't speak to them yet.'

'They still need to get rid of their Wrackspurt infestation,' Luna interrupted them, and gave Harry a warm hug. 'As soon as they manage that, they'll come around, though I'm afraid that'll take a long time. They both aren't very nice people.'

Harry and Neville shared a grin over Luna's shoulder. _Trust Luna to tell me the unpleasant truth,_ Harry thought, while he returned the hug. He vaguely remembered a ride to Hogwarts when Luna had told Ron that he wasn't a nice person. Hermione had clashed more than once with the eccentric Ravenclaw, so it was no wonder Luna had reservations against his best friends. The small, pesky voice in the back of his head, however, told him that this was more than about Luna having problems with Ron and Hermione. She had just stated in her unique way major character faults of his best friends.

However, this was not the time to dwell upon these thoughts. As the guests of honour, he and Daphne had obligations to fulfil against the other guests.

'The Head of the Ancient House of Nott, Mr Theodore Nott, and Miss Pansy Parkinson!' Tapsy announced.

Daphne and Harry shared a small grimace, while Nott bent over the hand of his hostess, and Cyrus Greengrass greeted Parkinson. Then it was their turn.

Harry felt how his wife stiffened when Nott took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, and he slid his arm around her waist in a protective gesture.

Nott hadn't changed much since their first day at Hogwarts. The weedy child had turned into a stoop-backed, thin adult. His eyes were too close together in his pale face, which gave him a shifty appearance. Harry didn't like the lewd smile he gave Daphne, and he pulled his wife closer.

'Potter!' Nott acknowledged without an attempt to shake his hand. The glare he gave Harry was murderous.

'Nott!' Harry replied in kind, ready to train his wand on him any second.

'Daphne, dear, my congratulations,' Parkinson simpered.

To Harry, it seemed she would rather have offered her condolences.

'Thank you, Pansy,' a beaming Daphne replied. 'You can't imagine how happy I am!' She turned her head briefly to Harry and gave him a radiant smile, while she leaned against him. 'Let me also offer you my best wishes for your future!' Her face and tone were polite, but her demeanour made it clear that she thought that Parkinson would need all good wishes she could get for a life with Nott.

Parkinson's eyes shot daggers at Daphne, while the simper never left her face. 'Yes, Theodore asked me to become his wife last weekend. Just look at the engagement ring he got me from Bangles and Knuckleduster's!' She held out her hand.

Her ring finger was adorned with the ugliest engagement ring Harry had ever seen. Diamonds clustered around a huge, square-cut emerald that was mounted on a gold band in the form of two entwining snakes.

'Oh, how fitting for you!' Daphne enthused. 'Of course, Harry gave me his grandmother's ring,' she said, and held her hand under Parkinson's nose.

Parkinson's smile faltered.

Harry sent warm and thankful thoughts towards Andromeda. _Nothing will announce your commitment to your wife more clearly to the Wizarding world than to give her a family heirloom_ , she had advised him, and it seemed her advice had been dead right. He had no idea why it was so important to a girl to wear a family heirloom on her finger instead of a new ring, but the engagement ring competition between Daphne and Parkinson obviously turned out in Daphne's favour.

'I simply adore your necklace and earrings!' Parkinson enthused. 'Did your parents give them to you for your wedding?'

Daphne fingered the necklace briefly with one hand and smiled demurely. 'These? Oh no, they're Harry's wedding present to me.'

Harry could hardly suppress his laughter. The look Parkinson gave Daphne was murderous, and she was positively green with envy, but it was nothing compared to the look Nott gave him. Harry didn't have to be a seer to know that great expenses were in Nott's immediate future, much to Nott's resentment.

Then it was his turn to deal with Parkinson. He executed a perfect bow over Parkinson's hand, and kissed her knuckles. 'Let me also offer my heartfelt congratulations to your upcoming nuptials, Miss Parkinson,' he smiled at her. 'I'm sure your union is a match made in heaven!'

Instead of an answer, Parkinson glared at him and pulled her hand away with more force than necessary.

Harry and Daphne exchanged an amused smile, while they watched the newly betrothed couple mingling with the other guests.

'Kitty, you're an evil bitch,' Harry whispered in Daphne's ear.

She gave him a cheeky grin in return. 'While you behaved like a saint?'

'Well, I had a good teacher,' he replied, and briefly tightened his grip around her waist.

Lisa Turpin and her fiancé Terry Boot were the last guests of the dinner party to arrive, and then Harry and Daphne were free to mingle with the other guests until dinner was announced. They joined Ernie, Morag, Neville, Hannah, Luna, Dean, Lisa and Terry in one corner of the room. Astoria also ambled over on Dudley's arm.

'What are the cow and the Death Eater doing here?' Lisa asked, indicating with her chin towards Parkinson and Nott, who were talking to their hosts.

Daphne raised both hands in frustration. 'That wasn't my idea, Lisa. Mother invited them. She thought I'd like my old housemates being here tonight, or at least what's left of them and not yet dead, on the run or in Azkaban.' Her voice sounded bitter.

'Unfortunately, that's mother's idea of a good prank on us,' Astoria added.

Lisa made a face. 'I can't stand that Parkinson bitch! I still have a score with her to settle from the night of the battle. I mean, how could she dare to suggest to give Harry to Voldemort to save her own sorry arse?'

'That's Pansy for you, Lisa,' sighed Daphne. 'She's the walking example for the Slytherin maxim to save your own hide first.'

'In contrary to you,' Lisa replied and smiled at Daphne. 'If it weren't for you on the night of the battle...'

'Don't mention it,' Daphne interrupted her, and turned red. 'You would've done the same.'

Terry looked at Daphne and then at his fiancé. 'I sense a story here. Is there something you haven't told me yet, love?'

'Oh, loads, honey,' Lisa smiled and patted his cheek. 'But you don't need to know everything. Women need to stay mysterious!'

That had the whole group laughing.

'Mistress, dinner is ready!' Tapsy announced over the noise of the many different conversations.

Cyrus and Isabella Greengrass led their guests to the dining room, where the house elves had set a huge, round table. Unfortunately, Isabella had insisted on a rather traditional seating arrangement, so Harry found himself between his wife and Susanne Potter as his closest female relative, while his friends were opposite of him and Daphne. However, Daphne had it worse in his opinion, because she had to endure the company of her father. Father and daughter hardly spoke to each other throughout the meal, and it turned out that Susanne barely spoke English, so the newlyweds were left to themselves, which suited them just fine. Thankfully, Isabella treated the dinner party as a normal dinner party and not a special wedding reception, so they were spared the speeches that were common on these occasions.

Harry heaved a sigh when the house elves finally removed the plates after the last course. As very traditional Purebloods, Cyrus and Isabella still adhered to the old fashioned British custom that the ladies withdraw to the parlour after dessert and leave the gentlemen to port and cigars. Daphne and Astoria had warned him ahead.

The ladies had barely left the room, when Cyrus Greengrass picked up his glass and rose from his chair. However, instead of sitting down beside his new son-in-law, he walked around the table and sat down beside Nott.

'Subtle,' Bill murmured, as he sat down between Harry and Alex Potter. 'What've you done that Cyrus Greengrass is already pissed at you, Harry?'

'Eloped with his daughter, butchered a probably dirty deal with Nott, and trounced his arse when he tried to lash out at Daphne,' Harry replied, and poured himself some port.

'My, my. You've been a pretty busy little Gryffindor, haven't you?' Bill quipped.

Alex Potter and Kingsley, who sat down at Harry's other side, laughed. Gordon McDougal also scooted closer.

Harry took a look around. The twelve men of the dinner party had split up into three groups. Alex Potter, Bill, Kingsley and Gordon McDougal had gathered around Harry, while another group had formed around Neville, consisting of Dean, Dudley, Ernie and Terry. Cyrus Greengrass and Theodore Nott sat distinctly apart from those two groups, talking quietly among themselves. Harry could sense they had cast a simple Privacy Ward to keep their conversation private.

'That sounds to me as if my brother-in-law finally got what he deserved,' Gordon McDougal remarked. 'I can't say that I'm sorry. Daphne's my goddaughter, and I was scandalised at the way Cyrus treated her like a piece of cattle. It's appalling that he tried to force her into a contract with that junior Death Eater Nott after Daphne's betrothed met his just deserts at the Battle of Hogwarts. While I was dismayed that she ran away from home, and didn't think to come to me for help, I must say I'm very pleased about the outcome her actions had. I don't think I've seen my niece that happy since she was a very small child. Thank you for making my goddaughter smile again, Harry!' He raised his glass in a toast to Harry.

Harry blushed as he raised his glass in response.

'As I already told you, Harry, I'm very pleased about your choice,' Kingsley boomed. 'Don't get me wrong, Ginny Weasley's a nice girl, but she's still immature, and not the kind of woman you'll need by your side to help you to find your place in our society. No offense meant, Bill,' he added.

'No offense taken,' Bill replied. 'It was plain to see for everyone during the weeks you spent at the Burrow that your relationship with Ginny was going south, Harry. Except for Ginny and Mum, of course, because they didn't want to see, and are still deluding themselves when it comes to you. I love my sister, but I'm not blind to her faults. As the youngest, she's used to get her way and can be rather stubborn and unreasonable, not to mention immature.' He took a sip of his port, and gave Harry a lopsided grin.

Harry raised his glass towards the oldest Weasley son. 'Thank you, Bill. Your support means a lot to me.'

'Don't mention it, Harry. Dad, Charlie and Percy share my opinion. George and Ron are too much like Mum to see reason – yet.'

Harry's mouth got grim when Bill mentioned the name of his younger brother. 'Ron sent me a Howler, and so did your mother and Ginny.'

Bill sighed. 'I'm sorry, but not surprised. All three of them tend to act before they think. At the moment, they're sulking and venting their anger about your wedding, much like Mum and Ginny did when I decided to marry Fleur. They'll come around, I'm sure.'

Harry pondered Bill's words, while he sipped his port and listened to the conversations going on around him. Bill had pointed out a few uncomfortable truths he hadn't been able to see while he was still at the Burrow. The way Ginny had treated Fleur during her stay at the Burrow after her engagement to Bill and the days before the wedding had been appalling. Ginny had acted like an immature brat, and given Fleur a hard time, while Fleur did her best to get along with her future sister-in-law. Her attitude towards Fleur hadn't changed much over the war. In fact, Fleur had been the reason for a major row between him and Ginny. He had done nothing more than told her how great Fleur had been to the seven refugees from Malfoy Manor, taken them into her house and treated and fed them, but Ginny had at once flown off the handle and accused him to be just as smitten with the Half-Veela as Ron was. It hadn't been the first time her infamous Weasley-temper was directed at him, but the first time it had earned him a Bat-Boogey-Hex. They hadn't spoken for two days after that.

Until today, he still was miffed at the way she had ripped into him, and without even knowing it he compared this incident to the disagreements he had had with Daphne up till now. There had only been a few, but each time she had left no doubt about it that she was vexed with him. But instead of hexing him or sulking, she had insisted that they should talk and clear the air. Bill was right, he decided. He was thankful that he had escaped Ginny's explosive temper. Daphne and he might have married for all the wrong reasons, but at least they treated each other considerately, and respected the other one's opinion, something Ginny wasn't capable of.

He was roused from his thoughts by Kingsley's voice.

'A little bird told me you're going to take up the Black seat on the Wizengamot, Harry?'

Harry grimaced. 'Don't remind me! I've no idea what I'm expected to do as a member of the Wizengamot, and I'm tempted to suspend my vote.'

Kingsley's face sobered. 'Don't, Harry. As it is at the moment, I need every vote in my corner I can get.'

Harry sighed, but before he could respond, Gordon McDougal interjected.

'May I offer myself as your mentor for your first year at the Wizengamot, Harry? That is, if you don't prefer to attend under Cyrus tutelage, but somehow I doubt he'll offer his help.'

The men all chuckled at that.

Harry glanced at Kingsley, and as the older man nodded, he turned to Daphne's uncle and said, 'I'm honoured, sir!'

Kingsley rubbed the palms of his hands in glee. 'You'd do worse than start on the Wizengamot under Gordon's guidance, Harry. He's the leader of the Light Traditionalists. The Macmillans, the Davies, the Ogdens and the Diggorys also belong to that faction. Joining them, you'll appease the Traditionalists, but won't scare away the supporters of the Light Faction. That'll help a lot to bridge the gap that goes through our society.' He looked as if he was going to warm up to this topic, but Cyrus Greengrass chose that moment to break up the party and lead the gentlemen to the parlour off the huge ballroom, where the ladies were waiting for them.

Just like the men, the ladies had split up into three groups.

Andy, Hestia, Mary McDougal, her daughter, Susanne Potter, Fleur and Daphne sat in the sofas that faced the fireplace. The younger members of the party, Hannah, Luna, Lisa and Astoria, played a game of Gobstones around a table in the corner of the room. That left it to Isabella to entertain Parkinson. They sat apart from the two other groups in two chairs that were facing each other over a small coffee table.

Harry walked behind the sofa where his wife sat, and put a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head around, she looked up at him and smiled. Under the cover of the many voices in the room she asked, 'So, how did you and father get along?'

' _Not at all!_ ' would have been the honest answer, but Harry just shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'He took his glass and went to sit beside Nott as soon as you left the room.'

Her eyes went dark and moved to her father, who stood beside her mother, his back turned to Harry and Daphne. If glares were daggers, Cyrus Greengrass would have dropped dead to the ground that very moment. 'How does he dare to snub you!' she hissed.

'It wasn't that bad. Bill, Kingsley and your Uncle Gordon came to my recue,' he tried to placate her. 'By the way, Gordon offered to introduce me to the Wizengamot.'

'Did he, really? That's wonderful! Ever since you told us you've got to take on the Black seat I've wracked my brain who'd mentor you, because father won't do it. You might think he's still miffed at you.' She winked at him, and he grinned back. 'It never occurred to me to ask Uncle Gordon, though he's the obvious choice after father.' Daphne looked as if she was angry at herself for her oversight.

Harry gripped with his hand at his heart and gasped exaggeratedly. 'You mean, my perfect Pureblood wife didn't think of something that would help me? I'm really disappointed, Daphne. What do you think, is it already too late for an annulment?' He grinned at her.

Daphne blushed and slapped his hand that still lay on her shoulder. 'Prat!'

'Abusive woman!'

'Wimp!'

Lisa Turpin, who had ambled over after the game of Gobstones had ended, and had heard part of their conversation, laughed out loud. 'That sounds like an already well rehearsed dialogue to me! Though, I wonder what Rita Skeeter will write if she ever hears that the great Harry Potter's called a wimp by his wife.'

Daphne and Harry joined her laughter. Lisa asked about their honeymoon, and Daphne began to describe the island and the villa they had stayed at, but was soon interrupted by Tapsy, who announced the arrival of the first guests to the ball.

The door to the huge ballroom opened, and soft music wafted into the parlour. The guests to the ball had been provided with Portkeys that brought them to a cloak room near the ballroom at an allocated time. The time span between the Portkeys was rather short, and soon a long queue had formed to greet the hosts. As guests of honour, Daphne and Harry had to stand beside Cyrus and Isabella. The young couple had to endure a lot of curious stares and more or less polite questions about their whirlwind romance, which they managed to fend off rather well.

'I swear, these old hags were all staring at my tummy!' Daphne quietly hissed to Harry. 'Damned Skeeter and her insinuations!' They had left their place at the front of the parlour, and were following Cyrus and Isabella into the ballroom to open the ball with their first dance.

'They'll realise soon enough that she was wrong when your tummy stays flat,' Harry tried to console her.

'True, but then they'll probably wonder if I'm able to present you with an heir,' Daphne grumbled.

Harry got a coughing fit. 'Merlin! That's insane! We're just eighteen!'

The music started, and Harry led her into a waltz without the slightest difficulties, though he felt awkward at first with the many eyes around the room staring at them.

Daphne noticed his nervousness. 'Just look at me like a besotted new husband's supposed to do,' she advised, and winked at him.

He laughed, but followed her advice. Their eyes locked, and somehow Harry found himself lost in the depth of Daphne's warm, blue eyes. Smiling at each other, they danced in silence, oblivious of the many people who looked at them. They even didn't notice the flash of a camera going off.

Polite manners forced Harry to dance with Isabella next, and after that with Susanne Potter and Andy, while Daphne danced with her father, Alex Potter, her Uncle Gordon and Dudley. Andy quietly took her leave after that dance. Though Kreacher babysat Teddy, she didn't want to leave him alone all night long. Harry saw her to the Apparition Point, and then went to find Daphne's Aunt Mary and Tori to dance with them, as Daphne had instructed him ahead.

'You two looked adorable during your opening dance,' Tori informed him when he led her on the dancefloor. 'It's a pity you don't have a twin brother, Harry!'

He laughed out loud at that. 'Sorry, Tori! That really was inconsiderate of my parents, wasn't it?'

That made her laugh, and they continued their banter till the dance ended.

Daphne turned up beside them. 'May I reclaim my husband, Tori?'

'You may, but only because he's yours, Daffy,' Tori grinned and turned around to join the other young people in a corner of the ballroom.

'She's impossible!' Daphne sighed, while she ambled on Harry's arm towards the refreshment table, but the amusement in her voice was evident.

Harry fetched a glass of punch for his wife and for himself. Worried that her white dress might get stained, Daphne sipped the beverage next to the refreshment table instead of trying to make her way through the ballroom with a glass in her hand. Of course, Harry stayed with her. His arm around her waist and a glass of punch in his other hand, they talked quietly when two young men approached them, who looked vaguely familiar to Harry.

'Daphne, Potter,' they greeted. The dark haired one grinned at Harry. 'You caused quite the stir, Potter, when you eloped with Slytherin's beauty queen from right under Nott's nose.'

'Though we shouldn't be surprised about that,' the blond one added. 'Just remember how many times he grabbed the Snitch from right under Malfoy's nose!'

'Harry, these clowns are two of my many distant cousins, Fabian Vaisey and Miles Bletchley. Probably you remember them from Quidditch. At least you trounced their arses often enough when you played against them!' Daphne made the introductions.

Now Harry remembered them. Vaisey and Bletchley. They had been on the Slytherin Quidditch team during his year as captain of the Gryffindor team.

The young men shook hands. Harry had no idea what to expect from Vaisey and Bletchley. During their time on rivalling teams they had been fierce competitors, which had led to more than one hexing incident in the corridors of Hogwarts. In fact, Harry was sure that Bletchley had sent Angelina Johnson to the infirmary with a Hair-growth Jinx in his fifth year. Or had it been Alicia Spinnet? Anyway, their past history made him wary, so he was almost floored by Vaisey's next words.

'Miles and I just wanted to thank you personally that you freed us from that monster, Potter.'

Harry gaped, not knowing what he was supposed to say.

'Excuse my husband, Fabian and Miles,' he heard Daphne interfere. 'He still needs some time to get used to the fact that not all Slytherins were Death Eaters, and that quite a lot of us wanted to see the monster gone as badly as any Gryffindor.' She gave Harry an exasperated side glance.

He blushed. 'Sorry. It's just...'

'Yeah, just because Malfoy and his goons always came after you,' Bletchley interjected. 'Understandable. We never should've allowed that ferret so much leeway. He surely gave Slytherin a bad reputation. Believe it or not, Potter, but a lot of us didn't have anything against you, except when it came to Quidditch, of course!'

'Ah, yes, but that was Quidditch!' Harry laughed.

'Exactly!' Vaisey agreed, and he and Bletchley joined Harry's laughter.

They chatted a few minutes about Quidditch and Vaisey and Bletchley's careers after Hogwarts. Both had finished Hogwarts last year. They had known that the war was about to break out any day, and since they both were from neutral families, they didn't want to be dragged into the conflict. So, they decided to travel. They had returned recently, after the news of the victory of the Light in the Battle of Hogwarts had finally reached them in a remote village near the Lake Miramar, Mexico, in the jungle near the border to Guatemala, where they studied old Mayan rituals with the local shaman.

To Harry's amazement he learned that both of them had applied for Auror School, and had been accepted for the new class to start in September.

'We're probably going to work alongside soon, Potter!' Vaisey laughed, and slapped Harry on the shoulder. 'You'll have to join the department's Quidditch team then. With you on our team, we're going to win the unofficial in-house Ministry championship for years.'

A wistful smile appeared on Harry's face. 'I haven't played Quidditch since my sixth year.'

Vaisey and Bletchley exchanged a look. 'We also haven't played since we left Hogwarts. Say, Potter, what do you think about drumming up some old school mates and having a friendly match next weekend? My parents have a Quidditch pitch at home,' Vaisey asked.

Harry's eyes lit up. 'That sounds fantastic!' Then he sobered. 'Bugger! I don't have a broom!'

Bletchley looked puzzled. 'What happened to your Firebolt?'

'It got lost when I fled from a Death Eater attack, led by Voldemort himself, a couple of days before I turned seventeen,' Harry replied. That had also been the day Hedwig and Mad Eye Moody were killed. These days, Harry didn't like to think of the horrible past. Reliving the memories won't bring the dead back, but it inevitably dragged him down, while he wanted to look forward to the future.

There must have been something in his voice that betrayed his feelings. Daphne leaned against him, slipping her arm around his waist, and gave him a light hug. 'We can get you a new broom next week, Harry.'

He looked down at her and smiled. 'I'd like that!'

Bletchley clapped his hands. 'Brilliant! Come on, let's go over to your mates and ask who'd like to play!'

Together they made their way through the crowded room to the corner where Harry's friends had gathered. The idea was met with great enthusiasm. Harry was amazed that neither Ernie, nor Neville and Terry showed a sign of wariness against the two former Slytherins, but that surprise soon gave way to understanding when he found out that all three of his D.A. mates were somehow related to the two Slytherins, and knew them from their early childhood on.

The young men would have been perfectly comfortable with talk about Quidditch for the rest of the evening, but their female counterparts didn't want any of that. Daphne was the first to take Harry by the hand and pull him with her to the dancefloor. 'Come on, husband! Show your wife a good time!'

'Yes, my dear!' Harry replied with mock meekness.

Of course that earned him a few laughs and remarks like 'Whipped!' from his mates. But then it was Harry's turn to laugh, because Lisa, Morag, Hannah and Luna also dragged their fiancés respectively boyfriends out onto the dancefloor.

Harry looked at Daphne while he whirled her over the dancefloor. She was always beautiful, but tonight she simply radiated. Her eyes sparkled, and the polite mask she had put on while they were with her parents for the reception of the guest completely vanished when she returned his gaze. This was the warm and caring Daphne he had got to know during their honeymoon, and whenever they were with Teddy.

'I think it's now my turn to dance with the groom. Go, dance with Terry, Daphne!' Lisa Turpin cut in when the music ended, and shooed Daphne away with a motion of her hand.

'I'll get back to you for that on your wedding ball, Lisa!' Daphne promised, as she took Terry's hand for the next dance.

Harry didn't know what to expect from Lisa. He knew her from the D.A., of course. Terry had brought her with him to their second meeting, he remembered. Though he couldn't remember ever having spoken to her outside of a D.A. meeting. Daphne had told him she had been friendly with Lisa at school, but didn't think they would qualify as close friends.

'You're good for each other, Harry,' Lisa said as he steered her over the dancefloor. 'At first I was as surprised and flabbergasted as anyone when I heard of your marriage. Slytherin's Ice Queen and the Inapproachable Prince of Gryffindor seemed such an unlikely couple to me. But seeing you together has proved me wrong. I've never seen neither you, nor Daphne that happy and relaxed.'

'Gryffindor's what?' Harry spluttered.

Lisa grinned. 'Didn't you know that the whole school called you that? The Inapproachable Prince of Gryffindor. Personally, I always thought that you're kind of shy and reticent, just like Daphne. Of course, Granger and Weasley saw to it that no one could get close to you except a very select circle.'

'Really? I've never noticed that,' Harry frowned.

'Of course not. They're very subtle about it, especially Granger, and took great pains never to be obvious about their attempts to scare away people when you were near.'

The music ended. As Daphne had instructed him, Harry thanked Lisa for the dance with a kiss on her knuckles, and then escorted her back to her fiancé. However, if he had hoped to claim his wife back, his hopes were shattered by Fleur.

'I think eet's my turn,' she said and took his arm. 'With your permission, of course, Daphne.'

Daphne looked insecure for a moment, but then gave in with good grace and took Bill's offered hand.

Harry's eyes followed his wife. Was she concerned he would fall for the allure of the Half-Veela? Hermione and Ginny always had been wary of Fleur, if not downright hostile. Hermione, he could understand. She had had a crush on Ron since probably first year, and the way Ron made a fool out of himself every time he was in Fleur's presence – and occasionally still did so today – must have vexed his bushy-haired friend to no end. He, however, had always been immune to Fleur's allure, so he never understood Ginny's jealousy. Of course, Ginny had been jealous of everything that caught his attention for longer than five minutes...

Fleur's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. 'You're a veree well matched couple, Harry!'

He automatically smiled at her. 'Thank you, Fleur!'

She shook her head. 'No, no, you don't understand. Veelas can sense eef a couple works or not. Even though I'm only Part-Veela, I've inherited that gift. You and Ginny were suitably well matched, too, but there was always something slightly off weeth you. I don't know how to describe eet. A touch of darkness, maybe, een both of you that would prevent you from findeeng true happiness with eech other. Eet ees different between you and Daphne. Though I can steel feel that darkness een you, eet ees well contained now, as eef Daphne keeps the darkness at bay.'

Harry was taken aback. To his knowledge, Fleur neither knew that Ginny had been possessed by Voldemort, nor did she know that he had contained a part of Voldemort's soul. Molly Weasley liked to pretend Ginny's possession had never happened, and as always the rest of her family followed her lead. Except Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley no one knew that he had had a part of Voldemort in himself. But it seemed to him as if Fleur was able to read the mark that Voldemort had left on Ginny and him.

'Wow, I had no idea, but it's good to know,' he replied. The dance ended, and this time Daphne was able to claim her husband back.

'That was about time,' she grumbled under her breath.

Harry laughed 'Yeah, I'd rather dance with you than anyone else.'

'Well, at least that's the right answer,' Daphne replied. Her eyes again held that trace of uneasiness Harry had noticed when Fleur had claimed the dance with him.

Daphne hardly ever showed uneasiness. Her strict Pureblood upbringing had taught her to mask her feelings in public. She had decided to let her guard down with him, because there was no other way to make their relationship work than to be open with each other. The vows they had exchanged over the anvil were sentient, Harry reminded himself. Any violation of their vows would lead to serious consequences for their magic. No wonder Daphne was wary of the potential danger Fleur's Veela allure could pose to their still fragile bond, Harry thought.

He took her by the hand. 'I've got to tell you something.'

Together they slipped out of the ballroom onto the adjoining terrace. The August night was overcast, and a light drizzle was in the air. Harry led Daphne over the deserted terrace and down into the garden. He stopped in the sycamore alley and turned towards her. In the darkness of the shadow of the trees he could barely see her face.

'It's about something Fleur told me when we danced,' he told her. He took a deep breath and repeated Fleur's words to her.

Daphne listened without interrupting him. Meanwhile, his eyes had got used to the darkness, and he could make out her features. A slight frown marred her face when he came to the end. 'So, Fleur thinks we two are well matched because I help you keeping the darkness in you at bay?'

'That's what I understood,' Harry nodded. He cupped her cheek with his hand, while he put an arm around her waist. 'She's right, you know. I've been through a lot of dark stuff in my life, and I know I'm not the easiest person to be around because of the weight I still carry around with me. But you make it easier, Daphne. You're calm and composed, and that somehow rubs off on me. Also, we're forced to be open with each other. I think you're the first person in my life who really made me talk. I hated it in the beginning, but I've to admit I felt better afterwards.'

Her eyes smiled into his, and she slid her arms around his neck. 'Thank you for telling me, Harry.'

There was something in her eyes that beckoned him to her. The next second their lips met, and they forgot everything around them.

Eventually, Harry raised his head. He smiled at Daphne and then gave her another soft kiss on the lips. 'I think we need to return, kitty.'

She pouted, but slipped her hand into his, and their fingers entwined. Hand in hand they ambled back to the house. Back in the ballroom they had to endure a few catcalls and jokes from their friends about newlyweds who needed to find a room. Daphne rolled her eyes, and then excused herself to go to the ladies' room. Lisa and Morag went with her.

'What's that with girls always going to the ladies' room in groups?' Terry wondered aloud.

Harry laughed, then went to get himself a glass of punch from the refreshment table. He was just about to return to his friends, when his cousin Alex walked up to him, also a glass in his hand.

'I imagine there's a lot you want to talk about with me, Harry,' he began.

Harry let out a harsh laugh. 'You can say that again, cousin. I'd really love to hear where you were all these years when I thought I was the last Potter.'

Alex eyes were full of sympathy and regret. 'Yes, I owe you an explanation. But tonight is neither the place nor the time, don't you agree? Will you and your wife meet Susanne and me for dinner in the _Chat Noir_ tomorrow evening? We can talk then, and I will answer all your questions.'

Harry rubbed his neck with the back of his hand. 'You're right, this is not the place to talk. All right, see you tomorrow!'

Alex gave him a relieved smile, and then returned to his wife.

Harry didn't know it, but his eyes lit up when Daphne returned into the ballroom. The three young women entered the room together, laughing and talking. Daphne went slightly ahead. She had her head turned to her friends and said something that made Lisa and Morag laugh. They had to pass a group of four men, who stood beside the door and chatted idly, each carrying a glass of champagne in their hand. Harry recognised Theodore Nott among them, and frowned when he saw Nott leering at Daphne once again. The next second the man beside Nott launched into Daphne. One arm grabbed her roughly by the waist, and he dragged her with him, until the man stood with his back against the wall, while his other hand pushed his wand under her chin.

'Potter!' the man roared.

There were screams of women and enraged shouts of men, and the musicians abruptly ended the merry tune they had started on a discord. Then silence settled onto the room, only interrupted by the sobs of one of Daphne's elderly cousins.

'Potter!' the man roared again.

Harry stepped forward. It seemed to him as if time had frozen. The people around him melted into the background. The only thing that mattered to him were Daphne's eyes, wide open with fear, and the wand-tip at her throat. He knew that the assassin could slit her throat before any wandless Stunner he threw at him reached him. The telltale colour of the spell would be a dead give away and warn the assassin.

'Potter! Put down your wand, and then step in the middle of the room. Everyone else here had better not move or pull their wands, or I'll kill that Bloodtraitor whore in a heartbeat!'

Harry's heart beat fast against his ribcage, betraying his outward calm a lie, but his voice was steady when he asked, 'What do you want?'

'You!' the man screamed. Spittle flew from his mouth. 'You dared to kill the greatest wizard ever alive, and tonight...' His voice cracked, and he couldn't finish his sentence. Instead, he trained his wand on Harry. 'Ave...'

In one swift move, Daphne stomped her high heels on his foot and drove her elbow into his gut. The second the assassin bent in pain, her fist connected with his nose.

Harry wasted no time. 'Accio Daphne!' he cast silently and wandlessly with his left hand, followed with 'Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Incarcerus!' cast with his right hand in quick succession.

While Daphne zoomed towards his arms in a graceful arch, Harry saw that at least a dozen more Stunners connected with the man's chest.

'Oomph!' He had underestimated the power of his Summoning Spell, and staggered under her impact. He threw his arms around his wife to steady them both. 'Are you all right, kitty?' he croaked, gripping her in a tight hug.

She let out a quivering laugh. 'I think I hurt my hand when I punched his gob.'

He took her hand in his and examined it. The knuckles were bruised and swollen. With his other hand he cast a silent and wandless healing charm over her hand, and the bruising vanished. Their eyes met, both remembering the day he had first cast a healing charm on her to heal her hand after she had signed at Gringotts with the Blood Quill. Harry kissed her knuckles. 'Thank Merlin for Mrs Davis and Muggle self-defence,' he whispered, and Daphne gave another shaky laugh. Then he slid his arm around her waist. She was trembling, and he led her to the chairs that stood alongside the wall. 'Tapsy!' he called.

With a CRACK, the Greengrass house elf appeared. 'Please, bring a blanket and some hot chocolate with a dose of Calming Draught for Daphne.'

Tapsy Apparated away and returned not even a minute later with the blanket and a mug of hot chocolate.

Harry put the blanket around Daphne's shoulder and coaxed her to drink the hot chocolate. Eventually, her trembling subsided, and Harry took the time to look around.

Chaos reigned in Isabella Greengrass' magnificent ballroom. Quite a lot of the ladies, among them Isabella Greengrass, seemed to have fainted and were attended by their husbands or friends. Kingsley and Hestia were bent over the prone form of the assassin, while Bill, Fleur, Gordon and Mary McDougal, and Alex and Susanne Potter held the curious onlookers back.

Lisa and Morag sat beside them. They also seemed to be under shock, and Ernie and Terry tended to their fiancés like Harry did to Daphne. The rest of their friends, Neville, Hannah, Luna, Dean, and even Fabian Vaisey and Miles Bletchley, had formed a semicircle around them, their drawn wands in their hands, and sheltered them from well-meaning helpers and curious onlookers. Even Dudley was part of that bodyguard, Harry registered with disbelief. He stood beside Miles Bletchley and had his fists raised, ready to punch anyone who would dare to come too close.

While Harry was still watching, a group of Aurors entered the room. Kingsley exchanged a few words with them, then he and one Auror came over to where Harry and Daphne sat.

'The assassin's dead,' Kingsley told Harry.

Harry only nodded. He had expected that. About a dozen of strong Stunners to the chest had to be lethal.

'We identified him as the husband of Cyrus Greengrass' third cousin from his mother's side. Until today, that man has never been suspected to be a sympathiser of Voldemort. Shows again what you really know!' Kingsley sighed. Then his face became soft. 'How's your wife holding up, Harry? Are you both up for questioning tonight?'

Harry looked down at Daphne. Even though her trembling had subsided, her face was as white as a sheet, and she leaned heavily against him. 'I don't think so,' he replied.

Kingsley nodded to that. 'Miss Turpin and Miss McDougal also seem to be in a bad shape,' he observed. 'Take the girls home, so that they can calm down,' he addressed the three young men. 'But I expect all of you to present yourself at the Ministry tomorrow right after noon for questioning.'

Harry didn't have to be told twice. He gave Kingsley a thankful smile and then called 'Sunny!'

The house elf appeared immediately in front of them.

'Please, take Daphne and me home,' Harry asked.

Sunny took their hands, and the next moment they found themselves in front of _The Hideaway_.

Daphne still clung to him like a wet sandbag. Harry gently helped her up to their room. Meanwhile, she was completely apathetic, and he had to help her to change from her ball gown into her nightdress like a small child. He put her under the warm covers of their bed and cast an additional warming charm on her. Then he quickly changed into his pyjamas, slipped beside her and took her in his arms. He gently stroked her back, and was relieved when he finally felt something wet splashing on his chest.

It seemed to be ages until Daphne had cried away the fear and the tension of the attack. Harry held her close and murmured words of comfort in her ear. Finally, her breath got deep and even.

Still holding his sleeping wife close to him, Harry allowed himself for the first time that night to think about what had happened. The thought that someone would harm Daphne to get at him frightened him to the core. He knew he would never be able to forgive himself if she got hurt because of him. But there was also that tiny voice deep inside of him that insisted he would never again be happy if he lost her. Dawn was already creeping through the window panes when he finally fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

 **MY**

'Good afternoon, Mr Potter!' Head Auror Gawain Robarts greeted Harry, raising from his seat behind his desk. 'Please, take a seat!' He motioned with his hand to the visitor chair in front of his desk, and waited until Harry sat down before he resumed his own seat.

'Minister Shacklebolt asked me to update you about our investigations of the attack on your wife and you after you've given your statement,' Head Auror Robards began, though he looked as if he was not happy about Kingsley's wish. 'The assassin was identified as Richard Sprout, age fifty-seven, a third cousin by marriage to Cyrus Greengrass. We already questioned his wife, his only daughter and his son-in-law, who were also guests of the ball. Nothing they told us suggests that Mr Sprout ever has shown sympathy for You-Know-Who or was in contact with one of his followers. We're going to extend our questionings to his co-workers and friends during the next week, of course. His body's been examined in the Department of Mysteries. It showed no spell residue of the Imperius Curse, but we could determine that Mr Sprout died because of multiple Stunners.'

'That's not surprising,' Harry said. 'Did the examination of his body come up with anything else?'

Robarts shrugged his shoulders. 'Nothing of interest, if you ask me. One of the Unspeakeables had the idea to analyse Mr Sprout's blood, and came up with a list of substances no one can make head or tail out of. Newfangled nonsense, if you ask me. Of course I put an end to it. Waste of money and Ministry resources, but that are the Unspeakables!'

Harry wasn't so sure if it was a good idea of Head Auror Robarts to dismiss the results of the analysis. He vaguely remembered one afternoon at the Dursley's, when he had watched a documentation about forensic sciences on the telly, while his relatives were visiting with Aunt Marge. It had been amazing what the scientists could determine from their analysis. What if the Unspeakable was up to something with that analysis? Maybe Mr Sprout had been fed a potion that made him act like he did? What if the blood analysis could tell which potion had been used?

'May I have a look on that analysis?' he asked.

Head Auror Robarts frowned, and Harry's heart sank. He wasn't a member of the Auror Department yet, so Robarts could rightfully tell him he had no business snooping in ongoing Auror operations. But then Head Auror Robarts let out a deep, rumbling laugh. He tore the sheet of parchment out of the folder and handed it to Harry. 'Here, though I don't know what you think you can do with that rubbish, Mr Potter. But Kingsley said I'm supposed to be completely open with you. I'd have binned that nonsense, anyway.'

Harry took the sheet of parchment with a nod of thanks and pocketed it in his robes. 'Who were the last persons who talked to Mr Sprout? Did they notice something unusual?'

Robarts consulted the folder in front of him. 'His son-in-law, one Mr Matthew Flint, Mr Theodore Nott and old Adolphus Greengrass. None of them noticed anything unusual.' His voice sounded impatient.

Harry didn't want to overstay his welcome. It was plain to see that the grizzled Head Auror wanted to finish their conversation as soon as possible. So, he got to his feet and said, 'Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Head Auror Robarts. I really appreciate that.' He hoped he sounded respectful and modest, so that Robarts would be willing to talk to him again, should further questions arise. The two men shook hands, and Harry left the office.

He found Daphne already waiting for him in the small waiting area off the Auror Department, after she had given her own statement about the events of last night. She leafed through the pages of the _Sunday Prophet,_ and still looked pale and withdrawn.

When she heard his footsteps, she looked up and smiled. 'We made front news again,' she said, and pointed with her finger to a photo of the two of them during their opening dance that covered almost half of the front page.

'I'm sure I don't want to know what they wrote about us,' Harry grimaced.

'Oh, it isn't that bad, if you have a thing for sappy romances,' Daphne replied, and folded the newspaper. She put it on the low table beside her and stood up. 'Are we finished here? I can't wait to get back home!'

Harry put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the elevators. He was thankful that it was a Sunday afternoon and the Ministry almost empty, except for the Aurors who had to work overtime because of last night's incident, and a few members of the maintenance crew. So, he and Daphne had been able to get to the Auror Department without anyone noticing them. They were as lucky on their way out, and a few minutes later they found themselves on the beach in front of _The Hideaway._

It was a warm and sunny afternoon. Tori had sent a message with Tapsy that morning that she would stay at her parents until Daphne had recovered from her shock, so they didn't need to return to the house to entertain their guest. Neither of them wanted to spend the beautiful day inside, so they decided on a long walk along the coastal path. While they slowly walked towards the cliffs, arm in arm, Harry told Daphne about his talk with Head Auror Robarts, and his own ideas to what the blood analysis could lead.

'I wish there was a way that I could persuade Robarts to pursue the blood analysis lead, and find out if Sprout got fed a potion,' Harry told his wife.

'It sounds rather farfetched to me,' Daphne objected. 'Can Muggles really determine if someone has been poisoned by a blood analysis? Though, I never heard of a potion that makes you do something against your will.'

' _I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper to death,'_ Harry quoted. 'That you never heard about it doesn't mean that it can't be done, Daphne.'

She gave him a surprised side glance. 'You still remember that? Professor Snape must've made a stronger impression on you than I ever thought possible.'

'I owe my life to Snape I don't know how many times,' he replied quietly. 'So, yes, he made a strong impression on me.'

Daphne didn't comment on that. Once again Harry was thankful that she gave him the space to decide what he wanted to tell her, and to tell it on his own terms, though he couldn't help the nagging feeling inside of him growing stronger that advised him to come clear with her about his past soon.

He ran his free hand through his hair, messing it up even more. 'Usually, that's the point where I turn to Hermione for help,' he sighed.

His wife gave him a sharp side glance. 'Why don't you want to ask her this time?'

'Well, to begin with, she's obviously not available at the moment. But I also have a bad feeling about asking her.' He didn't elaborate that point further, but looked out onto the sea. The day was sunny, but windy. Huge waves rolled in from the sea and broke at the cliffs, sending sprays of white foam high up in the air. In the light of the afternoon sun the droplets glittered like diamonds when they fell back into the sea.

The young couple walked a few minutes without talking.

'It's because of me, isn't it?' Daphne broke the silence. She worried her lower lip with her teeth and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Look, Harry, if you want to ask her, I don't mind. I'm not the jealous type, well, except if a Part-Veela dances with my husband,' she tried to lighten the mood.

He hugged her briefly. 'No, it's not about you, Daphne. I know you'd grin and bear it for my sake. It's Hermione I'm worried about. I'm used to run to her with all of my problems, and she's used to find a solution for me. Heck, I think she even doubts that I'm capable to think of my own, given how often she disputes my conclusions. If I ask her to help me with this research, she'll throw herself into that wholeheartedly. Hermione's passionate about learning and discovering, you know. But I also know she'll hog me. It's always been only Ron, Hermione and me. I don't want to give her the perfect opportunity to try to come between us, because that's exactly what she'll do. Lisa yesterday told me that she and Ron scared away anybody who tried to get to know me.'

He stopped walking and slipped both arms around her waist. 'You know that it would be dangerous to our magic to let that happen.'

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned against him, her head buried at his shoulder. 'Yes, that's true.'

The young couple stood in a silent embrace for a long time. Then Harry pulled his arms away and held out his hand to Daphne. She grabbed it and laced her fingers with his. Hand in hand they continued their walk.

'I think it's possible to have private research done for you by the Department of Mysteries,' Daphne resumed their discussion. 'I remember father mentioning that he asked them to analyse a shipment of Alihotsy leaves that seemed to be slightly off. He didn't want to sell them off without knowing if their properties had changed. He said that the fee he had to pay to the Ministry for the service of the Department of Mysteries was worth the possible damage to the reputation of the family business.'

'Thank Merlin for your inquisitiveness and your good memory, Daphne,' Harry said and kissed her temple. 'I'll look into it!'

 **MY**

'You don't have to come with me if you don't feel up to it,' Harry told his wife later that evening when it was time to get ready to meet Alex and Susanne Potter. 'I think my cousin and his wife will understand. You had quite the scare last night.'

'Thank you, Harry, but I'd rather come with you. Staying alone at home and brood won't do me any good. Besides that, I have to make sure that you're not going to blow your lid when you talk with your cousin. I don't pretend that I understand everything you went through at your aunt's house, but I know you had it rough. So, learning that there were other relatives who not once asked what became of you must hurt like hell.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'That's true,' he admitted. 'He'll have to give me a damned good reason why I never knew I had relatives from my father's side.'

 **MY**

'The _Chat Noir_ is a French restaurant, and one of the places where you simply _must_ be seen if you're a rich Pureblood. I've been there with my parents for special occasions,' Daphne told him when they ambled down the narrow side alley off Diagon Alley that led to the restaurant. 'It's nice, but I prefer a good Muggle pizza any day.'

That made him laugh. Still laughing, they entered the small restaurant. The maitre d' ushered them to a table for four in the back part of the restaurant. Alex and Susanne Potter already waited for them and greeted them warmly. They made polite small talk while they chose from the menu and waited for their orders.

'Are you feeling all right again, Daphne?' Alex asked.

'Yes, thank you. It was scary, but I think I'm over it.'

Alex shook his head. 'I wonder what got into him. I've met Mr Sprout a couple of years ago in Geneva, where he attended a congress about magical international business relations. He didn't seem like your typical Pureblood fanatic to me. Quite the contrary, he had very sensible ideas about international relations that were opposite to everything Voldemort and his minions stood for.' He sighed and took a sip of wine. 'I suppose people can change over time.'

'Yeah, and pigs can fly,' Harry muttered under his breath. He didn't believe it, it just didn't add up. Sprout had never been sympathetic to the Pureblood agenda, his relatives said, and there was also the list of substances that had been found in his blood... His musings were interrupted by the waiter who brought their orders.

'Maybe I should cast a Privacy Charm so that we can talk undisturbed?' Alex asked after the last plate had been placed on the table.

'Don't worry, I've already taken care of it,' Harry replied, tersely. His stomach twisted into a tight knot. What was Alex going to tell him?

Alex raised his eyebrows. 'Silently and wandlessly? I'm impressed!'

'Show off!' Daphne told her husband, and picked up her knife and fork.

Alex and Susanne laughed. Though she talked only little, Susanne seemed to understand enough English to follow a conversation.

Harry was thankful about Daphne's attempt to ease his tension. He picked up his cutlery, but put it down immediately. His appetite had left him. He wanted answers. He looked at his cousin. 'Why, Alex? Why didn't you come once for me all these years?'

Alex returned his gaze fair and square. 'Let me start at the beginning. As I told you, I was two years older than your father. My father, Charlus, was a younger brother. As such, per the Potter House Charter he was entitled to a lifelong income from the Younger Children's Trust, but that was all. The Potters have always been a very wealthy, even rich family, but the vast fortune you've inherited was accumulated by my uncle Fleamont, your grandfather, when he first invented Sleakeasy Hair Potion for the wizarding market, and then developed a non-magical version for the Muggle market and founded a beauty company together with a Muggle from France.'

Harry nodded. That all wasn't new to him. He had heard amazing stories about his grandfather Fleamont from the Goblins as well as from their Muggle counterparts since he took up the reigns of the management of the Potter holdings. In an attempt not to offend his host and to keep his nervous hands occupied, he picked up his cutlery again and shoved the peas on his plate around.

'Well, as true Slytherins both brothers were ambitious ...' Alex continued.

'As what?!' Harry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, and he stared at his cousin.

Alex dabbed his mouth and took a sip of wine. 'Didn't you know that your grandfather and my father were both Slytherins, as my mother? Your grandmother Euphemia was a Ravenclaw, though.'

Harry shook his head. 'Nobody ever told me. All I knew was that both of my parents were Gryffindors. I've always been told that it's hereditary in which house you're in. Just look at the Weasleys, they've been Gryffindors since Merlin knows when, so I just assumed that the Potters have always been a traditional Gryffindor family.'

He was pale, and his hands trembled. Hastily, he hid them under the table. Daphne put down her cutlery and grabbed his hand. Visibly relaxing under her touch, he gave her a brief smile and then told his cousin, 'Go ahead, Alex.'

'Actually, the Potters are traditionally Slytherins or Ravenclaws, with the odd Hufflepuff thrown in. Of course, they've married women from all four houses, so there are a few Gryffindors among our ancestors. Ralston Potter was one, and also my grandfather Henry, who'd be your great-grandfather. But I digress. As a true Slytherin, my father was as ambitious as your grandfather Fleamont. But while your grandfather was a highly gifted inventor and businessman, my father was a consummate politician.'

Alex took another sip of his wine. He didn't put the glass down gain, but twirled the stem between his fingers with a pensive smile. 'My father wasn't happy with the politics of the Ministry. He hated the rising Pureblood movement, always saying that it kept Britain's magical society in the medieval. Unfortunately, the Potters had lost their seat on the Wizengamot to the Notts after Grandfather Henry promoted to support the Muggles in the Great War, so father had to settle with a job with the Ministry. But old Cantankerous Nott's influence reached far, and father's ideas were boycotted every way he turned.'

He took another sip and put his glass down.

Harry had given up any pretence of eating. His eyes hung on Alex' lips.

'Unfortunate for my father, here in Britain things got worse after the downfall of Grindlewald, because Albus Dumbledore stepped onto the political stage. Even though he repeatedly refused to become Minister for Magic, he pulled the strings in the background like a puppet master, playing the opposing parties, and thus effectively nipping every opportunity for a modernisation of Britain's magical society in the bud.'

Harry stared down on his plate. 'I know. I was one of the puppets he played.'

'My father was one of the first to foresee the uprising of a new Dark Lord, supported by the Purebloods, who'd lead Britain's magical society into doom. Since nobody was interested in his warnings, and he was neutralised at the Ministry, he decided to leave Britain and work for the ICW when he got the chance. He reasoned that he might be able to help his home country from the outside when the worst was going to happen,' Alex continued his lesson of Potter family history.

'That's why we left for Switzerland in 1963, when I had just turned five. I grew up in Geneva, and eventually we all took on the Swiss citizenship. My parents never returned to Britain, not even for visits. Uncle Fleamont and Aunt Euphemia came for visits, together with James, but these visits had to stop when Voldemort rose to power for the first time. All four of them didn't live long enough to see the first war come to an end. I always considered myself being Swiss, not British. I was educated at Beauxbatons and took a job with the ICW, like my father, though I've nothing to do with the department dealing with the British affairs.'

He looked up and gave Harry an apologizing smile. 'Your father and I lost contact after Uncle Fleamont and Aunt Euphemia died and your parents went into hiding. I didn't even know that you were born. The news that Voldemort was defeated by you on Halloween 1981 also didn't make it to the continent immediately. British magical society has always isolated itself from the rest of Europe, and even more so during the first war. News travelled slowly. There were a lot of rumours, but nothing concrete. It was not until December that I knew for sure that the toddler that defeated Voldemort was actually James's son, and heir to the vast fortune my uncle had accumulated.'

He took his wife's hand and squeezed it. 'Susanne and I had just married. The moment we realised that it was you who'd defeated Voldemort, we knew you were in danger. There was danger from the Death Eaters who'd lost their master, but also danger from those who'd want to get their hands on the Potter fortune. So, we immediately travelled to Britain to get custody of you and take you with us to Switzerland.' Alex paused. A look of sadness appeared on his face.

Susanne picked up his narration. 'We came too late,' she said quietly. 'The Wizengamot had already given you in Dumbledore's - what is the word, custard? No, custody! Of course we talked to him. Alex and I wanted you to grow up in your father's family, together with the children we were hopefully going to have one day. But Dumbledore refused to tell us where you were. He said he had taken measures that you were safe and happy. He even refused to allow us to visit you.' The old helpless anger about Dumbledore's refusal still was evident in her voice.

'Of course we tried to find you,' Alex added. 'But the owls we sent you couldn't deliver our letters. It was evident that an Owl Repelling Charm must have been placed on your person. We tried to get an owl to you at least once a month, until the time you came of age. They always came back. After your seventeenth birthday we figured that you wouldn't be happy with us showing up when you didn't need us anymore, so we stopped sending owls. It was quite the surprise when we got the invitation from your mother-in-law.'

'You've got Daphne to thank for that. I never knew that you existed. But she remembered that my grandfather had at least one brother, who also had children, and insisted on finding and inviting you,' Harry replied.

'When we found out that an Owl Repelling Charm had been placed on Harry, and Harry told me he'd never heard of relatives from his father's side, I thought it likely that you've been kept from getting into contact with him like so many other witches and wizards,' Daphne explained. 'I thought the ball would be a good opportunity to get to know each other.'

'That it was!' Harry and Alex concurred, causing everybody around the table to laugh.

'You might say I could've used one of the Potter house elves to find you,' Alex told Harry after the laughter had died down. He took a sip of wine and continued, 'They most likely would've been able to get through any ward Dumbledore had placed around you. Unfortunately, I've never been to one of the Potter estates, so I didn't know any of the elves. I'm truly sorry that I let you down, Harry. All that was left to do when I couldn't get custody of you was to make sure that the will of my uncle Fleamont was obeyed, and the Potter fortune kept safe for you. To his honour, I have to say Dumbledore didn't try once to get at your money.'

'Well, that's at least one decent thing he did,' Harry spat. 'Had he really had the gall to tell you he made sure I was safe and happy? Well, I'm sorry to tell you I was neither of that.'

Alex and Susanne looked taken aback. 'What!?' they asked unison.

Daphne put a calming hand on Harry's arm. 'Harry doesn't like to talk about it. I think, what he told me until now is only the tip of the iceberg, but it's safe to say that his relatives abused him.'

Alex face turned ashen while he listened to Daphne's words. 'Oh Merlin, I had no idea!' he whispered.

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'It's in the past and you can't change anything about it, Alex. For my part, I'd like to keep these unhappy memories in the past. Though I'm happy that we finally got to know each other!'

'Here's to that!' Alex said and raised his glass.

The others followed suit.

From there, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Daphne and Harry learned that the older Potters lived in the magical part of Basel, though Alex worked at the ICW in Geneva.

The older Potters had to travel back to Switzerland the next morning. Alex was not happy to have to leave his young cousin so soon after he had found him, but he had long-dated meetings scheduled for the upcoming week he couldn't cancel. 'But you'll probably see more of me during the next couple of months,' he hinted.

'What do you mean?' Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

But Alex only grinned while he took another sip of wine. 'Just you wait and see. You'll find out soon.'

'I can see why my grandmother and Greataunt Dorea called you and dad almost twins. The Marauder Gene obviously runs in the family,' Harry quipped.

Alex didn't deny that, but chuckled quietly. 'You'll have to visit us in the summer, Harry and Daphne. I still have the letters your grandmother sent to my mother. Quite a lot deal with the shenanigans of young James. I bet you'd love to read them.'

'Unfortunately, Alex and I never had children of our own,' Susanne added with her hard German accent. 'It will be nice to have young people in the house!'

Harry's eyes lit up at the invitation. 'We'd love to visit you, won't we, Daphne?'

Smiling at his obvious joy over the invitation, Daphne nodded. Soon after that, the two couples bade each other good bye. Harry and Daphne Apparated from Diagon Alley to the front of their home.

'Do you mind if I stay outside for a little longer?' Harry asked. 'I'd like to get some fresh air after what I learned from Alex.'

'No, that's all right,' Daphne replied. 'Do you want to be alone?'

He shook his head. 'I'd rather not.'

Daphne replied nothing, but slid her arm around his waist, and led him to a bench in a corner of the garden that overlooked the beach. The young couple sat down side by side and looked on the moonlit beach.

'What do you think about Alex' story?' Harry finally asked.

'It fits with everything we know Dumbledore did after your parents died,' Daphne replied. 'I thought something like that when you told me you never heard from your relatives from your father's side.' She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I simply don't get it why he put you with these horrible people and made sure no one from the wizarding world could get into contact with you.'

Harry put an arm around her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. 'He told me his reasons for that were twofold. Most important was the protection my mother gave me when she refused to step aside so that Voldemort could kill me. He had to kill her first, which evoked an ancient blood magic. As a result, the Killing Curse he cast on me after that backfired and destroyed his body.'

'So, that's what you meant with the sacrifice of your Muggleborn mother when you faced him in the Great Hall?' she asked.

'Yeah. Dumbledore knew that her sacrifice would protect me as long as I was minor and lived with blood-relatives of my mother. That's why he brought me to my aunt and hid me there. The other reason was that he didn't want me to get spoiled by my fame while growing up in the magical world. By growing up with my Muggle relatives I was supposed to have a normal childhood.' He laughed harshly. 'A normal childhood, my arse!'

Daphne slid her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Again, her silent support made him tell her more than he intended. 'Hearing from Alex and Susanne that they wanted to take me into their family and came looking for me was nice. It's good to know they cared and didn't abandon me. On the other hand it makes me wonder what could've been, how it would've been to grow up as just Harry Potter somewhere in Switzerland, far away from idiotic magical Britain's politics.'

He ran his hand through his hair and continued, 'But I know that these thoughts amount to nothing. I can't change the past, and wondering about what might've been will only make me miserable. I'm happy that I came out alive of that craziness my life was until last May, and don't want to dwell upon the past.'

Daphne chuckled lightly at that. 'You're more Slytherin than you know, Harry. That was such a Slytherin way of thought. I wholeheartedly agree. You can't change the past. Everything that happened made you the man you're today. Personally, I don't complain about the way you turned out.' She looked up to him and gave him an impish grin.

'I'm glad I meet your approval, Mrs Potter,' he replied in kind, and gave her a peck on the nose.

 **MY**

He hardly slept all night, and felt like after a wrestling match with one of Hagrid's Blastended Screwts as he woke up the next morning. A huge yawn almost split his face in halves when he sat down at the breakfast table. His mood didn't get better as he read the lead article of the _Daily Prophet._

 _ **Assassination on Potter Wedding Ball!**_

 _ **Chosen One Barely Escapes Fatal Attack!**_

The article that followed wasn't much better. Without spelling it out, it implied that Richard Sprout had been a secret Death Eater, and speculated that his wife and daughter still followed his footsteps. Even worse, it described in great detail the ordeal Harry had been through, but didn't mention with one word that Daphne had been taken hostage by the assassin before he threatened Harry.

He slammed the newspaper on the table with a growl. 'This rag's getting worse by the day!'

'It's a shame how they treated Cousin Eireen and her daughter,' Daphne agreed, while she poured him a cup of tea. 'Do you mind if I visit them this morning? They must already be heartbroken by what happened, and surely don't deserve that article on top of that all.'

'Thank you,' Harry told his wife. 'It's very considerate of you to think of your cousin, Daphne.' A sudden idea hit him. 'If you don't mind to wait with your visit until I've concluded my business with the Department of Mysteries, I'll even come with you.'

Daphne's face lit up. 'Of course I'll wait for you, Harry. What else is on the agenda today?'

'The usual,' Harry replied around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. 'I have to prepare for another meeting with Director Ragnok. We should also think of making an appointment with Professor McGonagall to talk about our duties as head girl and head boy. If there's time left today, I'd like to have a look into the Black Family Grimoire. Sharptooth told me there's a way to add new members to the family. I'd love to add Andromeda and Teddy back to the Black family as soon as possible.'

'That's nice of you, Harry,' Daphne smiled at him. 'Speaking of family, isn't there one thing more you'll have to do?'

He met her question with a blank face.

'Your cousin Dudley asked you to meet him at our ball, and you promised to write him soon,' she reminded him.

Harry made a face at that. 'I'll write him sometime.' He turned his attention back to his breakfast, but the silky, yet steely voice of his wife held him back.

'Not sometime. Today, Harry!'

'Yes, dear!' He rolled his eyes. 'Slavemaster!' he added for good measure.

She gave him a cheeky grin. 'Yes. And you love it.'

Harry mock-glared at her, and then picked up the _Daily Prophet_ and hid his face behind the Quidditch section with as much dignity as she had left him, determinately ignoring her chuckles.

 **MY**

Harry was very pleased with himself when he returned from his appointment. His trip to the Ministry had been successful. The head of the Department of Mysteries, Unspeakable Croaker, had been willing to talk to him on short notice, and also had been more than willing to accept Harry's enquiry for private research. Harry learned from him this was the way the department raised funds for their other research projects, since the department traditionally was poorly funded by the Ministry.

He changed into plain, dark robes he had bought at Madam Malkin's for the many funerals in May. Daphne made a face at them, and threatened him with an impending shopping trip to Diagon Alley to get him a wardrobe "befitting to his standing", as she called it.

'Yes, dear,' Harry replied, every inch the obedient husband, but secretly determined not to set another foot into Twillfitt and Tattings any time soon, if he could help it.

The look he got in return from his wife indicated that she didn't trust his sudden meekness. However, she didn't comment on it. Instead, she took his arm and Side-Along-Apparated him to the home of the late Richard Sprout.

A young brunette woman opened the door. She was a couple of years older than Daphne, but had the same, amazingly blue eyes. Obviously, they were a Greengrass family trait. However, her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying. She wore black robes, and her face was as white as a sheet with grief. At the sight of Daphne and Harry her eyes widened with surprise.

'Cousin Dana! We've come to offer our condolences to your mother and you,' Daphne said and hugged her cousin.

'Thank you, Daphne. That's very kind of you,' Dana Flint replied, returning the hug. Her voice was choked with tears.

Harry had difficulties to reconcile the grieving woman in front of him with the vivacious young woman he vaguely remembered from the reception line right before the ball. 'My heartfelt condolences, Mrs Flint,' he said and bowed over her hand.

Dana Flint led them into the parlour. Her mother, Eireen Sprout, sat in a high-backed chair near the window. Her face was ashen while she looked out onto the garden, but her eyes were empty, as if she didn't see anything. She had an infant cradled to her chest, and clung to it as if it was a lifeline.

'She's been like that ever since the Aurors let us go home,' Dana Flint whispered to Harry and Daphne. 'At least she's getting some comfort from little Dickie, but she hasn't talked to anyone. I doubt she'll notice that you're here.'

She was right. Eireen didn't turn around or didn't even acknowledge them with a flicker of their eyes when Daphne and Harry went over to her and offered their condolences.

'Is the baby your son?' Harry asked Dana Flint in an attempt to make small-talk, after they had in vain tried to get the attention of her mother.

Dana Flint ushered them to the sofa. Her eyes lit up with the pride of a young mother. 'Yes. He's three months old. We named him Richard, after dad.' Tears welled up in her eyes, and she averted her face.

Harry began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. Crying women still made him uneasy. He exchanged a look with Daphne, but she seemed to be as helpless as he felt in the face of the deep grief of Richard Sprout's wife and daughter. They both let out an inaudible sigh of relief when the door opened and a young man entered the parlour.

Harry at once recognised him as one of the men who had stood around Nott when the assassination on Daphne happened. So, this was Matthew Flint, Richard Sprout's son-in-law, he thought.

Ever the well-bred Pureblood gentleman, Flint greeted them politely. He then gave his wife a peck on the cheek and a small hug, which she acknowledged with a faint smile, before he went over to his mother-in-law. He put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. Then he caressed the cheek of his son with a finger, a look of awe and tenderness on his face.

Harry watched him closely. The name Flint had made him distrustful, he admitted to himself. Matthew Flint probably was related to Marcus Flint, Slytherin's former Quidditch captain and a brute, if Harry had ever met one. Matthew Flint, however, seemed to be of a different stamp, judging by the tenderness and consideration with which he treated his family. Somehow, Harry doubted that he had any connections to the Death Eaters, like it had been rumoured about Marcus Flint.

'I can't tell you how sorry I am about what happened to you and your husband, Daphne,' Matthew Flint said after he said down beside his wife. 'I've wracked my brain about what has happened, but I still can't think of what possessed Richard to act like he did.' He shook his head, obviously still in disbelief. 'One minute we were chatting with Theo Nott and old Adolphus Greengrass, and in the next second…' His voice broke, and he shook his head.

'Minister Shaklebolt already told us that nothing in the investigations of the Auror Department indicated that your father-in-law ever had connections to Voldemort,' Harry began, but had to stop when Matthew and Dana Flint flinched at the name of the hated Dark Lord. Out of respect of the grief of the family he refrained from commenting on that, but exchanged an exasperated look with his wife.

'Behave!' she mouthed to him, unnoticed by the Flints.

He grinned weakly, and turned back to his hosts. 'Neither Daphne nor I believe that your father acted on his own will, Mrs Flint. Is it possible that he's been hit by the Imperius Curse?' Of course, he knew from what Head Auror Robarts had told him that the Imperius Curse had already been ruled out. But he wanted to hear what the Flints had observed that night, and he knew no better way to ask.

'Funny you'd ask that,' Matthew Flint replied. 'I've thought of that, too, after Richard's attack. Nothing in his demeanour that night indicated that he was under the influence of the Imperius Curse. He acted as always.'

'Maybe it was a potion,' Daphne threw in. 'You can imitate the results of pretty every hex and curse with a potion.'

Matthew Flint looked doubtful. 'We all had the same that evening, first dinner at home, and then a couple of glasses of elf champagne at your ball. I can't imagine when Richard should've been poisoned.'

'I noticed that you all held a glass of champagne in your hands when Daphne entered the room,' Harry remarked. 'Who got the last round?'

'Theo Nott picked them up from a tablet one of your house elves carried around,' Flint replied. 'He handed a glass to each of us and kept the last one for himself. Old man Nott was a murderous bastard, and his whelp's just the same, only that he covered his tracks better. But he couldn't have poisoned Richard's champagne without Adolphus or I noticing that.'

Not long after that they took their leave.

Harry was very quiet during lunch.

'You suspect Nott of having poisoned Richard, don't you?' Daphne asked finally, breaking into his thoughts.

Harry gave a start. 'Yeah,' he admitted. 'Though I've no idea how he managed it.'

'Oh, that's obvious,' his wife replied coolly, while she cut her meat. 'You're not the only one who's able to practise wandless magic, you know, though I've never met someone who's as accomplished as you are. Most wizards or witches aren't able to do more than one or two simple spells wandlessly. Nott could've Banished the potion into Richard's glass, or he could've exchanged his own glass with Richard's with a Switching Charm.'

Harry nodded thoughtfully to that while he chewed a last mouthful of beans. He swallowed and then replied, 'You're most likely right, kitty. But we'll never be able to prove that.'

Daphne gave him an incredulous look. 'You don't believe that's already over, do you, Harry? Nott will try again!'

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He exchanged a look with his wife over the table. Her eyes mirrored the dread in his.

 **MY**

After lunch, he sat down in his study with the Black Family Grimoire. Daphne kept him company, answering the many letters of congratulations they had received after their marriage became public.

'I think I've got it!' Harry finally said with a satisfied smile, and pointed to a page of the thick tome in front of him.

'You found a way to get Andy and Teddy back into the Black family?' Daphne's eyes lit up with joy. 'That's fantastic, Harry!'

He puffed his chest and buffed his fingernails at the front of his shirt. 'Well, after all I'm the Chosen One!' he mock-drawled.

Daphne snorted. She got up from her seat, walked around the desk and let herself plop in his lap. Harry's arms automatically slid around her waist. Taking his head between her hands, she said, 'It seems to me the Chosen One needs to be brought down a peg or two by his wife!' Then she messed up his hair with both of her hands.

'Hey!' Harry protested. When she didn't stop, he started tickling her. Daphne shrieked with laughter. He grinned. He had soon found out that his bride was extremely ticklish, and that she would give in immediately if he even did as much as threaten to tickle her. Today was no exception.

'Harry, stop it!' she gasped between fits of the giggles.

He obliged. With a big grin on his face he pulled her closer towards him and kissed her thoroughly. Fisting her hands in his hair, Daphne responded with equal enthusiasm. When they finally stopped, they both panted.

Daphne leaned her forehead against his. The dreamy smile in her eyes eventually gave place to her businesslike side. 'What do you have to do, and when are you going to tell her?'

Harry needed a few seconds longer to return to reality. 'Huh?' he asked, his hands still roaming the back of his wife.

Daphne giggled.

'Oh, Andy.' He gave her a reproachful look. 'It's a simple charm I have to perform on her and on Teddy. We were going to visit them this afternoon, weren't we? I can do it then, if Andy doesn't mind.'

'I doubt she will. Andy's been brought up in Pureblood tradition. Family is very important to her. She'll also have to think of Teddy. As a widow who raises her grandson, she doesn't have any sway in our society. As a member of the House Black Teddy is under the protection of a very influential magical family, not to mention that it gives you automatically the guardianship of Teddy, should something happen to Andy.'

'But I'm his godfather. Doesn't make me that his guardian in any case?' Harry asked.

Daphne shook her head. 'No, only if the Wizengamot approves your claim. That could be the tricky part, considering that Teddy's the son of a Werewolf and a Metamorphmagus. I can imagine that some bigots on the Wizengamot would use that as a pretext to lock him away.'

Harry shuddered at the mere thought. 'All right, I'll perform the charms today if Andy agrees.'

'She will, Harry, don't worry about that'

 **MY**

Daphne's words proved to be right. Harry Side-Along-Apparated his wife to Andy's cottage and together the young couple explained their plans to Andy.

'Of course I agree, Harry!' Andy exclaimed. She had tears of joy in her eyes.

Harry grinned. 'Brilliant! Then let's not waste time!' He drew the holly wand out of his Moke skin pouch and performed the charm on Andy. A silver mist evolved, enveloping both of them. After the mist had disappeared, Harry went over to Teddy's pram, repeating the charm with the same results.

He returned back to Andy and Daphne, who were sitting on the sofa. Andy still had tears of joy spilling down her cheeks, while Daphne tried to calm her.

'As your Head of House it's also my duty to make sure you and Teddy have everything you need and that you're safe, Andy,' he began.

Andy nodded. She had been raised in the Pureblood traditions, and knew what she rightfully could expect from her Head of House.

'I suppose you've read the newspaper today?'

Harry and Daphne again had made front news with an article about the attack at the ball.

'The article was hard to miss. It gave me quite the scare,' Andy replied.

'I'm sorry about that. However, I'm afraid the same can happen to you and Teddy. I don't want anyone to use you as a means to get at me, so I want to offer you to live in the Black town house at Grimmauld Place. Daphne and I've had a look at it before we came here today. Kreacher has worked a miracle with that house. All dark items are gone, so that it's safe to live there. Of course, Kreacher also had to Vanish most of the furniture, but I've set aside some money from the Black family vault to furnish the house. You can get whatever you like, Andy. Kreacher's waiting for your orders.' Harry looked at Andy, not sure how she would take his offer.

To his relief, Andy's eyes lit up. 'I'd love to live in the old family home! This cottage here reminds me too much of Ted and Dora, not to mention that it's hard to keep everything in order while I have to take care of Teddy. It will be good to have Kreacher there to help me.'

'Great! Then that's settled.' A broad grin spread over Harry's face. He didn't mention that he had also arranged with the Goblins that a generous amount of Galleons would be transferred each month from the Black family vault to Andromeda's personal vault. He had also opened a vault for Teddy and made a similar arrangement. She would learn about it soon enough when the Goblins sent their first vault statements. However, he didn't think she would be vexed with him. After all, it was no more than what she could rightfully demand of him as a member of his House.

 **MY**

On Saturday afternoon, Daphne Apparated Harry to the front gates of the Vaisey estate. Harry held the gate open for her, and they walked up the long driveway to the house hand in hand.

The door was opened by a woman in her mid-forties. Harry let out a gasp. In front of him stood a slightly younger, slimmer and better groomed version of Mrs Weasley. The flaming red hair and deep brown eyes, however, were identical.

At the sight of Daphne the woman smiled and pulled her in a hug. 'Daphne, my heartfelt congratulations on your nuptials! I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding ball!'

'Thank you, Cousin Moira,' Daphne replied, and returned the hug. 'May I introduce you to my husband, Mr Harry Potter?'

Moira Vaisey held her hand out to Harry. 'Mr Potter, it's an honour to meet you. Let me also congratulate you on your marriage!'

Harry pulled himself out of his stupor, and bent over the offered hand. 'Thank you, Mrs Vaisey. But please, call me Harry.'

'Then you must call me Moira. After all, we're all family here!' She linked arms with Harry and Daphne and led them through the house to the backyard. Harry got glimpses of a well-kept living room that lacked the formality of the Greengrass' home, but reminded him very much of the living room at the _Burrow._ Was it possible that Moira Vaisey and Molly Weasley were somehow related?

'It's uncanny, Moira, but you remind me of someone I know. You could be sisters,' he began.

'You mean Molly Weasley, don't you?' Moira interrupted him with a sad smile. 'Fabian told me you were best friends with my youngest nephew.'

Her youngest nephew? But then...

'You are Mrs Weasley's sister?' he blurted out.

'Yes, Molly's my older sister. Unfortunately, she didn't take it well that I fell in love with a Slytherin and married him. We haven't spoken since the day of my engagement, and I haven't been to any Prewett family gathering since then.'

Harry turned red. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know...'

Moira patted his arm. 'It's not your fault that my sister's that bigot, Harry. I have a wonderful husband and two sons to make up for that. I call myself a happy woman, even though my closest remaining blood relative doesn't acknowledge me.'

He didn't know what to reply to that, but thankfully they reached the backyard that moment.

Fabian Vaisey got up from one of the comfortable looking wicker chairs on the terrace at the back of the house, and walked to them with outstretched hands. 'Daphne, Potter! It's nice to see you!'

After greeting their host, Harry and Daphne stepped out onto the terrace and greeted the other guests. There were Miles Bletchley, Ernie and Morag, Terry and Lisa, Neville and Hannah, and Dean and Luna. While they were still exchanging greetings, Tori arrived with a girl Harry hadn't met before, but who was introduced as Tori's friend Gina.

Fabian rubbed his hands. 'All right, guys, are you up for some Qudditch?'

That was met with a round of cheers.

'Good!' Fabian grinned. 'Then let's chose the teams.'

'Oh, that's easy,' Lisa called from her place on Terry's lap. 'It's girls against boys!'

Her fiancé gave her an amazed look. 'Are you serious about that, love? You won't stand a chance against us! None of you girls have ever played on a team at school, but we've five experienced players with Fabian, Miles, Harry, Dean, Ernie and I.'

Lisa patted his cheek. 'Don't worry about us, honey. We'll do.' She gave Daphne a smirk that could only be described as predatory.

Daphne replied in kind.

Harry groaned. 'You'd better shut up, Terry, before you dig our graves any deeper.'

The other men laughed at that. 'Afraid of your wife, Potter?' Miles Bletchley grinned.

'Yes!' Harry nodded vigorously. 'And if you knew her as well as I do, you'd also be afraid.'

Neville shook his head and laughed. 'Merlin, you are so whipped, Harry.'

'Don't tell me afterwards that I didn't warn you, mate,' Harry replied grinning, and put his arm around Daphne.

Daphne leaned against him and kissed him on the cheek. 'Don't worry, Harry. I won't hurt you – much.'

That caused another round of uproarious laughter.

The young men gathered around Fabian. They quickly agreed on Fabian as captain. Bletchley became their keeper, while Neville and Ernie were beaters. Fabian, Dean and Terry played chasers, and there was a unanimous vote for Harry as seeker.

The girls elected Lisa as their captain. She and Daphne agreed on playing beaters, which didn't bode well for their fiancé respectively husband, if the smirks they sent towards them were anything to count on, Harry thought. Hannah was keeper. Luna, Morag and Gina became chasers, while Tori played seeker.

The young people ambled to the Qudditch pitch.

'Wow, is that a Firebolt Extreme?' Bletchley asked, when Harry pulled his shrunken broom out of his pocket and enlarged it with a flick of his wand. Of course, all young men had to gather around Harry first and admire his new broom before the game could begin.

Tori rolled her eyes. 'What is it about men and brooms?'

'Yeah, they are almost as obsessed with them as they are with their wands, forever polishing and comparing them,' Lisa chimed in.

The young men chose to ignore the sniggering that commend caused among the girls.

'All right, let's begin!' Fabian announced. He opened the basket that held the balls and let them free, the Snitch first. They waited a couple of seconds, then everyone mounted their brooms and got up into the air.

As usual, Harry took his position high above the other players, and at once began the familiar pattern of weaving across the pitch and scanning for the Snitch. Tori chose to trail him, and Harry grinned. That would make it easy to fool her.

To his amazement, the game very soon favoured the girls. Though the young men had more experience, their performance was seriously hindered by Neville and Ernie. Gentlemen they were, they didn't dare to send the Bludger with as much force at the girls as they could have. Harry was even sure that Ernie deliberately missed hitting his fiancé each time he had to block her progress. Daphne and Lisa, on the other hand, had no such qualms. With a feral grin on their faces, they happily sent the Bludger toward the male chasers, each time aiming and hitting with deadly accuracy. Lisa especially seemed to enjoy aiming at her fiancé. Thus the score quickly climbed to 100 – 20 in favour of the girls.

Harry knew that the honour of the male team depended on him. He wouldd have to catch the Snitch quickly, or the girls soon would be so far in the lead that the 150 points the male team would gather from catching the Snitch didn't matter anymore. He doubled his efforts.

He was finally rewarded when he noticed a small movement with the corner of his eyes. The Snitch was zooming lazily alongside the side fence of the pitch. One look told him that Tori was far behind him, but not to alert her he continued his zigzag pattern across the pitch, while he slowly moved toward the Snitch.

Tori and the Snitch caught wind of his intentions at the same time. Urging her broom to its topmost speed, Tori raced straight toward the Snitch, while the elusive ball sped up and began a crazy course toward the goalposts of the male team. However, they were both no match for Harry.

Harry accelerated his Firebolt Extreme to maximum speed, marvelling at the way how the top of the range broom reacted to the tiniest adjustments of his posture. It was almost as if the broom anticipated his intentions and reacted to them. Though the Snitch zigzagged wildly to throw him off, Harry inched closer until he only had to stretch out his hand and pluck the tiny ball out of the air.

WHACK!

A Bludger hit his side with maximum force. Harry felt how his ribs cracked under the impact. He swerved, and barely managed to hold to his broom.

Loud cheers from the girls told him that the successful beater had been his wife. Finally getting his broom back under control, he looked over his shoulder and mock-glared at Daphne.

In reply, she only smirked at him, and blew him a kiss.

The Snitch had used his distraction and flown out of sight. Harry resumed his usual lookout high above the pitch and took stock of his injuries. His ribcage hurt like hell, and he had difficulties to breathe. Yes, the impact of the Bludger definitely had broken a rib or two.

Another successful attempt of the girls on the goalposts of the male team gave him the cover he needed to cast a silent and wandless basic Healing Charm on himself. The worst pain vanished instantly, and he could breathe again. He knew that he wasn't healed completely, but he had had worse in his life and wouldn't have to see a Healer about such a trifle.

The score was now 110 – 20 in favour of the girls, and the Snitch was nowhere to be seen. Harry became desperate. He knew neither his wife, nor his sister-in-law would ever let him live down a defeat.

He looked over his shoulder to see to what Tori was up to. To his horror, she steered her broom into a steep dive that moment, breaking up the formation of Fabian, Terry and Dean, who just headed for the girl's goalposts, passing the Quaffle between them.

He immediately turned his broom to follow her, scanning the pitch below her while he did so.

Above him he heard the triumphant cries of the girls, who had managed to get hold of the Quaffle when Tori successfully disrupted the male chasers, and scored yet another goal. 120 – 20. Harry groaned. That couldn't be true; he must be stuck in a kind of daydream-nightmare, he thought, while he frantically tried to get a glimpse of the Snitch.

But there was no sign of the tiny ball, he registered when it was almost too late. He managed to pull himself out of his dive literally in the last second before he ploughed himself into the ground, and shot upward again in an angle as steep as his dive had been.

The girls shrieked when he shot through their chaser formation, this time turning the tables on them, and disrupting another attempt on the goalposts of Harry's team. But Fabian, Dean and Terry weren't able to use that to their advantage. Lisa and Daphne proved to be a deadly team of beaters, always to the fore when they were needed, and directing the Bludgers toward Terry and Fabian, who just were passing the Quaffle between them. Harry winced when he heard the heavy balls impacting on his teammates with a sound crack.

Tori had begun to trail him again. She looked very pleased with herself that she had almost managed to fool him. Luna had stolen the Quaffle from Terry when he was hit by a Bludger, courtesy of his own fiancé, and was now heading for the goalposts. Bletchley was ready for her, expecting a shot on the right goalpost, but in the last second Luna passed the Quaffle to Morag, who raced toward the goals from the opposite direction, caught the Quaffle, and neatly passed it through the left goalpost.

130 – 20. A disastrous defeat of the male team seemed unavoidable.

'Damned, Potter! Catch the Snitch!' Fabian yelled over the pitch.

'I'd loved to, but the blasted thing seems to have made itself invisible!' Harry yelled back.

The Snitch kept being elusive for another thirty minutes, during which the girls scored four more goals. Harry groaned. His eyes hurt from looking, but the Snitch still didn't show up.

The end was almost anticlimactic. The female chasers were in the middle of another attack of the opposite goalposts, when the Snitch appeared right in front of Harry. The moment he closed his fist around the fluttering ball, Luna scored.

Harry raised his arm into the air, showing that he had caught the Snitch.

Cheering and laughing the young people steered their brooms to the ground.

'180 – 170, I don't get it!' Terry groaned. 'The girls trounced our arses!'

'And don't you forget it!' Lisa smirked, hugging her fiancé.

'Yeah, you're probably going to rub my nose in it for the next fifty years!' Terry snorted.

'You bet!' Lisa smirked, and kissed him.

Everyone laughed.

Daphne stepped beside Harry and slid her arm around his waist. 'Are you hurt?' she asked under the cover of the laughter.

Harry shook his head and put his arm around her shoulder. 'I'm only a trifle sore. Woman, you have a mean streak!' he mocked, and kissed her temple.

'All's fair in love and war and Quidditch!' Daphne laughed, and kissed him back.

The game had lasted almost all afternoon long. The sun was already far in the west, and the shadows were becoming longer. Laughing and chatting the young people ambled back to the terrace, where Moira Vaisey waited for them with refreshments. Parched as they were from the excitement of the game, they accepted gladly.

Moira invited the young people for dinner. Just like her older sister, her hospitality knew no bounds, Harry mused, when he watched Moira Vaisey and her husband, Aaron, who were obviously enjoying to have their house full of young people.

The meal was served on the terrace, and afterwards everyone lingered and talked. Harry couldn't remember a time when he had ever had so much fun among friends, or had been that relaxed.

The impromptu party broke up after midnight. Harry and Daphne thanked their hosts, and then called Sunny to Apparate them back home, for Aaron Vaisey had brought out the Firewhisky at one point. Neither Harry nor Daphne trusted their ability to Apparate back home safely after a couple of shots.

Harry yawned when he undressed to get ready for bed. He was pleasantly tired after an afternoon of playing Quidditch, and a couple of shots afterwards to ease the humiliation of having lost to a team of unexperienced female players.

Daphne gasped when he raised his arms over his head to pull off his t-shirt. 'Harry, what's that?' She gently put her hand on a big purple bruise on his ribcage.

In spite of the Healing Charm he had used on himself, his ribs still felt sore, and he involuntarily winced when she touched him.

'You told me you weren't hurt!' she reproached him.

'I wasn't. This is nothing! I've had worse, kitty!' he assured her.

Daphne wasn't mollified. 'That looks as if your ribs are broken, you moron! Were you ever going to tell me?' The look on his face confirmed her suspicion, and she slapped him lightly on his behind.

'Ouch, that hurt!' he complained.

Daphne snorted. 'As if! Put on your shirt, Harry. We're going to St. Mungo's.'

'Daphne, really, it's nothing! It'll already be gone tomorrow morning!' Harry tried to delay the inevitable.

His wife narrowed her eyes at him. 'Quit whining, Harry! You're going to see a Healer!'

Meanwhile, he knew when it was of no use to argue with her. 'All right,' he sighed, and shrugged back into his t-shirt.

Daphne called Sunny, and seconds later their house elf Apparated them to the entrance hall of St. Mungo's.

It was a Saturday night. The waiting area was full of wizards and witches who had gone out and had had one drink too many, which had led to brawls and unsuccessful hexes thrown around. Neither Daphne nor Harry had taken into consideration that their photo had been on the front page of the _Sunday Prophet_ not even one week ago, so they were caught by surprise that they were recognised the moment they appeared on the Apparition Point.

'It's Harry Potter!' a hoarse male voice shouted. It belonged to a wizard whose head had been hexed to look backwards.

Harry briefly wondered what the man had done to earn him that treatment, but his attention was caught by a woman whose head literally was on fire, and who screeched, 'That's the whore who gave Love Potion to the Boy-Who-Lived to drag him into her bed! Let's send her to where she belongs, girls!' Two other women, who apparently had suffered from the same curse as the harpy, suddenly jumped to their feet.

He acted without thinking. The next moment an almost opaque shield appeared in front of Daphne and him. Luckily for them, the security immediately came to their rescue, and pushed back the crowd that advanced upon them.

A Healer quickly walked up to them. 'I'm Healer Wright. How can I help you, Mrs and Mr Potter?'

'My husband got hit in the side. I think I broke his ribs,' Daphne told him, clearly scared by the crowd that still tried to get past the security.

'Please, follow me!' Healer Wright led them to a corridor off the entrance hall that was lined with about a dozen of cubicles for the treatment of patients. He ushered them in one of the cubicles, and closed the door behind himself.

'Please, take off your shirt, Mr Potter.'

Harry obliged.

At the sight of the big purple bruise the Healer raised his eyebrows. 'Quidditch or domestic violence?' he asked, while casting a diagnostic charm.

'Quidditch,' Harry replied, offended at the accusation the question implied towards Daphne. 'I got hit by a Bludger. I guess I cracked a rib or two, but I already cast a basic Healing Charm during the game, so I should be all right in the morning. But my wife insisted that I had to see a Healer.' He rolled his eyes at Daphne.

'It was my fault, Harry! After all, I hit that Bludger at you!' Daphne said hotly.

'Kitty, it was a fair game, and you were playing for the opposing team! I'd have done the same in that situation. It was just damned luck that the blasted thing hit me square in the ribs!' Harry replied.

'You're right, Mr Potter. You had two broken ribs, but they're already healed. You did a good job with that Healing Charm.' Healer Wright remarked, while he weaved his wand in a complicated pattern across the bruise on Harry's chest. The bruise slowly disappeared. 'Here, that should completely heal you and calm down Mrs Potter!' he smiled. 'Who taught you that charm you used on yourself?'

'Oh, you can't help but pick up one useful thing or another when you're on the run from a madman the better part of a year,' Harry replied lightly, while he pulled on his t-shirt.

Healer Wright looked taken aback. 'I see,' he said quietly. Then he straightened. 'Take it easy the next two days, Mr Potter, and you should be as good as new!'

'Thank you, Healer Wright. Is there a way we can leave without having to use the Apparition Point in the entrance hall? I don't want to ask of Daphne to face that mob once again.'

'I wouldn't recommend Apparition, anyway, Mr Potter, except if you happen to own a house elf you can call. House elf Apparition is not as strenuous to the body as human Apparition. A house elf can Apparate you from here.'

'Good to know!' Harry grinned. 'Sunny!' he called. He and Daphne waved one last time to Healer Wright, and the next moment they were back in their bedroom.

'Merlin, I'm knackered!' Harry yawned when he made his second attempt to get ready for bed. The moment he pulled his t-shirt over his head, his wife was beside him and examined his ribs.

'Daphne, the Healer said I'm as good as new!' he reminded her, and took her in his arms.

She looked up at him, doubt in her eyes. 'Really, Harry?'

The way her soft fingers gently rubbed the spot where the Bludger had hit him suddenly made him forget his tiredness. 'I guess I'll have to prove it to you then,' he grinned and bent down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's notes:** A big thank you to Haphne24 for editing this chapter. Any mistakes that remain, are mine.

 **MY**

 **I've rewritten parts of chapter three, so I'd suggest to go back and (re)read that chapter first, before you continue with this chapter, or parts of it won't make sense.**

The next morning, Harry woke up stiff and sore, but he would rather swallow his tongue than admit it out loud. The long, hot shower he took did nothing to loosen his muscles and ease the pain. When he hobbled downstairs for breakfast, he thought of a way to tell Sunny to get him a pain relieving potion without Daphne noticing it.

Daphne was already at the breakfast table, reading the _Sunday Prophet._ It was a lovely summer day, but one look at her face told Harry that a storm was brewing. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, and a deep frown marred her beautiful features.

He stepped behind her and dropped a kiss on her head. 'Good morning, Daphne. What has you so riled up?'

She gave a start when she heard his voice and turned her head around. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she raised her hand to caress his cheek for a brief moment. 'Good morning, Harry. Skeeter has struck again; it seems she's got an informant at St. Mungo's, but see for yourself.' She shoved the newspaper to him as he sat down. Again, her eyes became dark with anger.

One look at the newspaper told Harry that her anger was justified.

 _ **Potters - Domestic Violence!**_

 _ **Surprise Marriage Already Broken!**_

 _ **by**_

 _ **Rita Skeeter**_

 _Unnamed sources at St Mungo's told this reporter that last night the Hero of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter, was taken to St Mungo's via emergency portkey. He was accompanied by his alleged wife, Daphne Potter, nee Greengrass. To the shock and amazement of the bystanders the alleged Mrs Potter claimed to have hurt her husband severely by hitting him into the ribs._

 _This sad event, dear readers, casts a damning light on the state of the alleged Potter marriage. What began with a statement that caught all friends of the Saviour of the Wizarding World by surprise, obviously already dissolved into domestic violence and hate. It makes this reporter wonder if those sources who claimed that the Chosen One was lured into this alleged marriage by unsavory means are right after all._

Harry clenched his fists. His first instinct was to run to the _Sunday_ _Prophet_ , force Skeeter to change into her Animagus form, and stomp the damned beetle to a bloody pulp under his feet. However, six weeks of marriage to a Slytherin had done a lot to develop his inner Slytherin, and he began to wonder if there was a better way to get back at _that woman_ without getting his hands dirty.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, and then looked at his wife. 'All right, Daphne. What do you suggest?'

Meanwhile, Daphne's face was crimson with fury. Harry couldn't blame her, though he was glad that her ire wasn't directed at him. She didn't scream or rant and throw hexes like Ginny. Instead, she went unnaturally calm while her eyes threw deadly daggers.

'We've got to talk with Percy. This time, she went too far. Freedom of the press is nice and well, but I won't let her write downright lies about me!' Daphne fumed.

He considered her words. 'You're right,' he finally admitted. 'A threat with a lawsuit and loss of money is probably the only way to get at these people.' He gestured towards the newspaper. 'I don't want you to go through what I had to endure from Skeeter during the Triwizard Tournament and the summer after that.'

She put her hand on his. 'I knew back then that Malfoy gave her all the information about what was going on at school, but it never occurred to me what that meant to you, Harry. I'm sorry! I should have done something about that.' Her voice sounded contrite.

'I can't see what you could've done, Daphne since even Vaisey and Bletchley agreed that he had too much clout in your house. It doesn't seem to me that you could've stood up against Malfoy without harming yourself,' Harry replied.

'True,' Daphne admitted. Her face was still flushed, but her anger seemed to have drained off. She bit her lips. 'Sometimes, I wish I hadn't been such a coward back then.'

Harry laughed at that. 'Wrong word, kitty. You mean cautious. You know, I begin to wonder if you didn't get the better deal. Just look where my Gryffindor bravery got me. I can't count all the times I woke up with a bloody nose in the infirmary after one of my oh-so-brave deeds.'

She joined his laughter, obviously consoled. She then picked up her knife and began to spread jam on a slice of toast. 'I'll write to Percy that we're going to see him tomorrow,' she announced. 'With your permission, of course, my husband,' she added in a formal tone as if as an afterthought.

Harry interrupted himself spooning scrambled eggs on his plate and gave his wife a warning look. 'Daphne, don't start with that nonsense again!'

Her cheeky grin as she bit in her toast told him that she just had taken the mickey successfully.

 **MY**

After the trouble at breakfast, they relaxed with a visit from Andromeda and Teddy in the afternoon. If Andromeda had read the _Sunday Prophet_ , she at least didn't let on. Harry and Daphne were thankful for her discretion. They enjoyed playing with Teddy, who seemed to become more alert of his surroundings with each day that passed, and set out to conquer that big and fascinating world with the curiosity and zeal only very small children possess.

They had agreed to meet with Dudley at the _Needy Kumquat_ after dinner. Harry's secret hopes his cousin would get cold feet and decline the offer had crashed when Dudley promptly answered his letter. When they entered the pub, Dudley was already there, and he sat at a table in the corner with a glass of coke in front of him. They exchanged greetings, and Harry went to get drinks for his wife and himself. When he placed a glass of wine in front of Daphne and sat down, he could hardly suppress a laugh.

Even in normal circumstances Dudley wasn't one for many words, if you put it nicely. The close proximity to Daphne's dazzling beauty seemed to have bereft him of the last vestiges of his limited vocabulary. His face was flushed, and his eyes were glazed.

'Don't forget to breathe, Dudley,' Harry grinned and took a sip of his lager.

Dudley shook himself as if awaking from a dream. 'How did an ugly little squirt like you get a woman like her, Harry?'

'He picked me up in a pub,' Daphne replied, giving Harry a conspiratorial wink, and linked her fingers with his.

'I'm not so sure about who picked up who,' Harry replied with a laugh. 'But that might be because I was pretty pissed that night.'

Dudley's eyes went wide. He looked from Harry to Daphne and back. 'So, you didn't meet at that school of yours? I always thought your kind got hooked up at school rather early and married as soon as they've finished school.' He had lowered his voice at his last words, and looked around as if to make sure that no-one listened in on them.

'Don't worry, Dudley, I've set up Privacy Wards around our table as soon as Daphne and I arrived. You can talk as you please,' Harry said, reading his cousin's thoughts.

Dudley gave a start. 'Don't you need to wave your wand for that? Daedalus was waving his for pretty much everything he did.'

Harry stared at Dudley. Was that really his cousin? What had become of the boy who would whimper at the mere sight of a wand and cover his behind with both hands? He couldn't reconcile the boy he used to know with the Dudley who was now sitting in front of him and had no problems attending a wizarding ball or talking about wands. It seemed to him that he wasn't the only one whose life had undergone a tremendous change since they last met.

'Uh – no,' he replied. 'I'm able to do all my spells wandlessly and silently since the end of the war.'

Dudley looked impressed. 'That isn't normal, is it?'

'Yes and no,' Daphne threw in. 'In theory, all fully qualified wizards and witches should be able to cast all of their spells silently. However, most still need to mutter their spells to make them work. Some of us can perform every day spells that don't need a lot of power wandlessly. I've never seen someone using silent and wandless magic as naturally as Harry does, his abilities are surely unique.'

'You're exaggerating, kitty!' Harry protested.

'I'm not,' she replied and leaned against him to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Then she turned back to Dudley. 'To answer your other question - of course, Harry and I knew each other from school. We were in different houses, and even though we shared a couple of classes, I don't think we exchanged more than twenty words while we were still at school.'

'If that much,' Harry agreed. 'We met again after the war and just clicked. The rest is history, as they say.' He exchanged another glance with his wife; there was no need to tell Dudley the whole story. 'Why did you want to talk to me, Dudley?' he asked.

Dudley turned red. He lowered his eyes to the table, and his fingers fidgeted with a beer mat.

Harry felt how Daphne shifted in her seat impatiently. He put a restraining hand on her arm, knowing from long experience that Dudley needed time until a thought formed in his head, and that it could take even longer until that thought was formed into words.

Daphne rolled her eyes, but relented. She leaned back into her seat and sipped her wine.

Finally, Dudley was ready. 'S-sorry, Harry.' He took a deep breath, and looked at his cousin. 'I'm sorry for the way I treated you when we were at school.'

'It's all right, Dudley. It's not entirely your fault. Much of the blame lies with my aunt and uncle.'

Dudley shrugged. 'I don't know. I thought a lot after these dementi things chased us. They made me see –' He broke off and shuddered, obviously lost in the memory of that day three years ago.

Harry remembered as if it had been yesterday how shaken up Dudley had been after the event. He had been whisked away to Grimmauld Place soon after the event, and had hardly seen Dudley when he returned to Privet Drive for the summers after his fifth and his sixth year. Now, he remembered that Dudley had been unnatural quiet during these times and hadn't once tried to harass Harry. He even had put a cup of tea in front of his door, Harry remembered. When the Dursleys left Privet Drive, Dudley had asked why he didn't come with them and then told him he never considered him a waste of space. Not for the first time, Harry wondered what the Dementors had forced Dudley to see; it must have been earth-shattering, considering the changes in Dudley's attitude towards him. 'It's all right, Dudley,' he repeated.

Dudley gave him an unfathomable look. 'No, it's not,' he stated. 'I wanted you to know.' With that he stood up from his seat, but Harry held him back by grabbing his arm.

'How are my uncle and aunt doing, Dudley?'

Rather reluctantly, Dudley sat back on his chair. 'Not good,' he admitted. 'We were allowed to leave the safe house at the end of June. When we returned home, we discovered that our house had been destroyed. Gas explosion, the neighbours said, but Daedalus told me it was that Voldy guy and his gang.'

Daphne snorted at the malapropism of the most feared name of the wizarding world, hastily masking it as a cough when Harry threw her a warning side glance.

Luckily, Dudley wasn't deterred by her. 'Dad was unable to collect the money from the insurance, because it hadn't been paid after we went into hiding. On top of that, Grunnings fired him, and dad had a heart attack after hearing that. It was touch and go for a while, but he finally made it. He left the hospital last week and we're now living in a small flat in Stockwell. The area isn't nice, but all we can afford with social aid. I've been doing some odd jobs and will be returning for my last year at school in September. With a little luck, I'll find a better paid job with the A-levels under my belt, so I can help mum and dad.'

Harry looked at his cousin, his mouth open. He had no idea what to reply. There was a part in him that wanted to rejoice because his uncle and aunt met their just deserts, but another part of him felt sorry for them.

'I'm sorry, Dudley,' he finally managed to say.

Dudley nodded in acceptance, and then got up once more to take his leave.

Again, Harry held him back. 'Where can I find you?'

Dudley gave him an address on Gaskell Street, and then left.

Harry and Daphne finished their drinks in silence. They didn't talk until Harry had apparated them back to _The Hideaway_ .

'Do you want to talk about it?' Daphne asked, still holding his arm as they appeared in front of the house.

Harry rubbed his face with his free hand. 'Yes – no. Hell, I don't know! It's so complicated.' He gave his wife an apologetic look. 'Do you mind if I take a walk? I need some time to think – alone.'

'Of course not,' she answered, squeezing his arm lightly. 'I only want you to remember one thing, Harry. Whatever you decide to do about the Dursleys, the only one who matters is you. _You_ have to feel comfortable with it. Please, be selfish for the first time in your life!'

He looked at her with wide eyes. Then he couldn't help himself, he had to laugh about her advice. 'You're such a snake,' he said, shaking his head.

Obviously pleased by what she considered a compliment, Daphne gave him a kiss on the cheek and then walked towards the house.

His eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the door. Then he turned around and walked to the beach. The sun was just disappearing behind the cliffs in a dazzling display of fiery red and gold – Gryffindor colours, he thought. Yet, he was going to push his Gryffindor tendencies aside and follow the advice of a Slytherin: for the first time in his life he was going to ask what something he might or might not do would mean for _him_ . He wouldn't care about "the right thing to do". He would consider the term "what was right" only in regards of his own well being.

Lost in his thoughts, he had reached the foot of the cliffs. Though the sinking sun still cast last rays on the opposite part of the beach, this part of the beach already lay in dark shadows. He sat down on a boulder and rubbed his face with the palms of his hand.

There was no denying that part of him rejoiced in the misfortune of the Dursleys. The way his aunt and uncle had treated him while he grew up in their house was appalling. No decent human being would act like that. In the light of their crimes against him, their current predicament seemed like poetic justice.

He didn't dwell on the way Dudley had treated him. He was the product of the misguided doting love of his parents and couldn't be blamed that he followed their lead when he was too young to know better. After all, he had been able to admit to his wrongdoings. That counted a lot in Harry's book. However, there was also no denying that Aunt Petunia as well as Uncle Vernon had a deeply ingrained fear of everything that was "unnatural" in their eyes. Despite all that, they had taken him in and sheltered him from Voldemort until he was of age; that also counted a lot in Harry's book. The loss of their house was a direct result of that. The Death Eaters had done it because they wanted to get back at Harry. They didn't know that he hated the place where he grew up. The chances that the Dursleys would have become victims without their connection to Harry were slim, and the same reason applied to the loss of Uncle Vernon's job. He would never have ran away if he hadn't had to protect his family and himself from Voldemort's minions. Uncle Vernon probably wouldn't have suffered a heart attack either, although, there was no saying, as fat as he was, Harry thought.

Again, he rubbed his face, and let out a deep sigh. No matter how he looked at it, he felt responsible – and thankful. As soon as he came to that insight, he knew he had to do something to help his relatives.

"A Potter always pays his dues!" had been one of Grandfather Fleamont's maxims, Director Ragnok had told him. Well, he was a Potter, and he would pay his dues to the Dursleys, or he would never be able to look at himself in the mirror. His mind made up, he slid from the boulder and walked home to Daphne.

 **MY**

The next morning he woke up, refreshed. As always, Daphne had snuggled up to him and buried her head into his chest. He caressed her silky hair, and she stirred.

'Good morning, kitty,' he smiled at her as her eyes fluttered open.

'G'mornin,' she mumbled, not yet fully awake. She yawned and stretched, and then smiled at him. 'I didn't hear you come back last night.'

'You were already sound asleep and I didn't want to wake you,' Harry replied and threw off the duvet to get up.

Daphne gave him a thoughtful side glance while she also got out of bed. 'So, you took your time to think,' she stated. 'Have you come to a decision?'

He nodded while he took fresh clothes out of the spacious wardrobe they shared. 'Yes; you'll be pleased with me; I came up with a very Slytherin plan.'

She raised her eyebrows at him with a questioning expression.

With a broad grin, Harry vanished into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Daphne's enraged: 'Harry James Potter!' followed him through the door.

 **MY**

His wife glared at him when they met at the breakfast table. She took the teapot and kept it away from him. 'Spill it, Potter, or I'll let you suffer from caffeine withdrawal.'

He gave her his best puppy-dog-eyes. 'Aw, come on, Daphne!'

She didn't reply, but poured herself cup of tea and added some sugar, while still withholding the teapot from him.

'Woman, you fight dirty,' he groaned as she took the first sip. The Cheshire-Cat-grin on her face was the broadest he had ever seen.

'Alright, you win,' he relented. 'I've come to the conclusion that I'll help my relatives.'

She bent toward him and kissed him on the cheek. 'I thought as much,' she smiled and poured him some tea. 'See, that wasn't so hard, was it? What's your big plan?'

He picked up his cup and sipped greedily with closed eyes.

'Idiot,' she snorted.

Harry opened his eyes and grinned at her while he took another sip. Then he put down his cup. 'Obviously, they need a home in a decent area and money. I had a look at the list of Potter real estate in the ledger last night. There are three houses in Muggle areas without any magical protection on them. I sent Sunny to look if the houses are habitable, and he told me they're all three in excellent condition. So, Aunt Petunia can have her pick.' He paused, playing with the handle of his tea cup. Then he grinned. 'I've also decided to include the Dursleys in the Black family.'

Daphne gave a surprised start. 'Is that even possible? The Blacks were such a dark family; you should think they'd have taken precautions against something like that ever happening.'

'Ah, but that's the beauty of it,' Harry replied, still grinning like a maniac. 'The Blacks weren't always that dark. Their motto, _Toujours_ _Pur,_ stems from a time when the family was a light family and took pride in defending their Muggle neighbours from enemy invasions with their magic. The spells I used to bring Andromeda and Teddy back into the family also originate from that time. According to the Black Grimoire, they were designed to bring Muggle orphans into the protection of the family magic.'

Daphne stared at him, open-mouthed, and a slice of toast midway between her plate and her mouth. 'You're taking the mickey,' she exclaimed.

'No, I'm not,' he defended himself. 'You can read it up in the grimoire for yourself, if you don't believe me. Whatever, I didn't like the thought of giving the Dursleys money from the Potter holdings. It seemed somehow – wrong.'

'That's understandable, Harry,' Daphne said softly and gave his hand a brief squeeze.

He cast a weak smile at her. 'If I include the Dursleys into the Black family, I can set up trust vaults for them with money from the Black holdings. It'll have Old Walburga rolling in her grave, if she knew, while Sirius would think it the greatest prank ever. Best of all, to get at the money, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will have to let me perform magic on them voluntarily. I'm very curious to see what side will win: their greed or their fear of magic.'

Daphne burst out laughing. 'What a shame you talked the hat out of placing you into Slytherin,' she wheezed. 'You would've made a much better Slytherin than Malfoy ever was.'

'I knew you'd like my plan,' Harry grinned and spooned some scrambled eggs on his plate.

 **MY**

After breakfast, the Potters Apparated to Diagon Alley for their meeting with Percy.

The young solicitor listened silently to their plans. 'You are entitled to sue a newspaper that prints lies about you,' he told them. 'I have to warn you: it has never been tried before. The _Sunday Prophet_ , as well as the _Daily Prophet_ , is held by a consortium of very influential and wealthy Pureblood families. So far, nobody in the wizarding world could afford to go against them; either because they didn't have the money, or because their reputation wouldn't have survived it.'

Harry leaned back in his chair. 'I think they'll find it hard to go against me, Percy. Without wanting to sound conceited, I guess they'll have a hard time to go against my reputation. Also, I probably own more money than the ten wealthiest Pureblood families combined.'

Percy nodded thoughtfully. 'Yes, if anyone can pull it of, it's you, Harry. Since you treasure your privacy, I'll announce your intentions with a press statement this afternoon, which I will also send to _The_ _Quibbler_ and the correspondents of the big international newspapers. I'm sure that'll cause quite a stir.' He allowed himself a small smile.

'That's exactly what we want,' Daphne interjected. 'These idiots need to learn a lesson or two.'

 **MY**

Shortly after that, the Potters took their leave from Percy. Hand in hand, they walked to the _Leaky Cauldron_ . Thankfully, it was still early in the morning and the alley was still sparsely populated. Nevertheless, they got a lot of curious stares from passers-by.

'I suppose that's because we're wearing such fashionable Muggle attire,' Daphne deadpanned as they entered the pub. 'Damn Skeeter!'

They quickly made their way through the pub and out onto Charing Cross Road. Neither of them had an idea where their second destination for the day was, so they took a taxi that brought them to Gaskell Street.

The drive across the Thames wasn't long. Barely twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of a rather run down looking complex of council flats. The young couple shared an uneasy glance. Harry made sure that his holly wand was in easy reach in the back pocket of his jeans. He grabbed Daphne's hand, and they went looking for the staircase where the Dursleys lived.

His heart pounded when he rang the doorbell. He had no idea how his aunt and uncle would react to his appearance at their doorstep, Daphne in tow, but he knew for sure they weren't going to slaughter a sheep to greet the lost son. The best he could hope for was that they didn't yell at him.

Dudley opened the door. His eyes went wide when he saw them.

'Who is it, Duddikins?' Harry heard Aunt Petunia's voice calling from the background, over the noise of the telly.

Dudley turned his head and called over his shoulder: 'It's Harry – and his wife.'

Aunt Petunia didn't answer immediately. The sound of the telly broke off. Then her head appeared behind Dudley's shoulders.

She scowled at Harry. 'Did you come to gloat over our misery?'

He shook his head. 'I've come to help you – if you'll let me; I know that everything that happened to you is because you took me in.'

'It's about time you admit that,' Aunt Petunia huffed.

Beside him, Daphne let out a small, enraged growl. Harry took her hand and squeezed it lightly. As much as he appreciated her anger on his behalf, he would rather get over with the confrontation with the Dursleys without a yelling contest, or – Merlin forbid – his wife hexing the Dursleys into the next millennium.

Aunt Petunia obviously wasn't aware of the danger she was in. 'Let them in,' she told Dudley.

Dudley stepped aside and held the door open invitingly.

Harry and Daphne found themselves in a narrow hallway that smelled faintly of furniture polish. At the end of the hallway, a door stood ajar. That was where Aunt Petunia led them. Walking ahead without any further greetings, she opened the door to a small living room, and ushered them in.

The furniture in the room was threadbare and obviously bought second hand after the Dursleys discovered the loss of their house and all of their belongings they had to leave at Privet Drive. However, each piece was impeccably clean. The surfaces of the cabinets were polished until they made reasonably well mirrors. The huge television screen the Dursleys had taken with them when they went into hiding was the centrepiece of the room. Some things obviously never changed, Harry thought with an inward grin.

Uncle Vernon lay on the couch, but got up when they entered the room. Harry would have barely recognised him had he run into him on the street. He had the ashen looks of someone who was still recovering from a severe illness. His pale skin was wrinkled, as if it was too big for his body: a sure sign that he had lost a lot of weight in a short time. His clothes, hanging from his body, and his grey hair and moustache reinforced that impression.

Harry gave his uncle a polite nod. 'Uncle Vernon.' Then he put his arm around Daphne's waist and said. 'This is my wife, Daphne. Daphne, meet my aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley.'

Daphne also nodded politely. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs and Mr Dursley.' She made no attempt to shake their hands.

It wouldn't have done her any good, anyway. Petunia gave her an appraising look from top to toe. 'You knocked her up, didn't you? That's why you had to marry her when you were not yet eighteen,' she stated.

'She's one of your kind, isn't she?' Uncle Vernon asked at the same time, recoiling as far from them as was possible in the small room.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His relatives behaved exactly as he had thought they would. While he could deal with that – after all, he had survived sixteen years under their "loving" care – he was embarrassed and angry by the way they treated Daphne. He gave his wife an apologetic side glance. 'I'm sorry, Daphne; I told you how they would be.'

'Don't worry about that, Harry. My parents didn't behave much better to you,' she replied with a thin smile.

He squeezed her slightly in thanks for her understanding, and then turned back to his relatives. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Petunia, but Daphne isn't pregnant. Yes, Uncle Vernon, she's a witch.' He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 'As I said before, I've come to help you – if you let me; I have two proposals for you I'd like to discuss with you.'

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged a look. Then Aunt Petunia indicated with her hand to the small sofa. 'Take a seat, please.' Her voice actually sounded polite.

Harry and Daphne sat down, while Uncle Vernon sat back on the big sofa, and his wife moved to sit down beside him. Dudley settled in one of the two upholstered chairs.

Harry looked at his wife, not sure how he should begin. She took his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. Emboldened by her support, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out three magical photos he had asked Sunny to take that morning. He put the photos on the low coffee table in front of his aunt and uncle.

'These are photos of three Muggle houses my grandfather left to me. They are all within Muggle areas, without any magical features or protections. This one is in Oxford, that house is in Bristol, and the last one's in Huddersfield,' he explained, tipping the photos with his index finger. 'Each house has four bedrooms, and is in excellent condition, I've been told. Take your choice out of these three. I promise not to set up any magical wards around the house you choose, as there were around Privet Drive. I'll have someone maintaining the place, since Dudley will be leaving soon to pursue his education, and Uncle Vernon obviously is not in the shape to do much.'

He leaned back in the sofa and was rewarded with another supportive squeeze of Daphne's hand. He exchanged a small smile with his wife, while he waited for the decision of his relatives.

Aunt Petunia leaned forward, and took the photo of the house in Huddersfield in her hand. 'This is my parent's house,' she breathed.

Harry's eyes grew wide. 'You mean, that's the house where you and Mum grew up in?'

His aunt nodded. 'Yes; we had to sell it after our parents died. Lily and I still had to finish our educations, and we needed the money for that. The real estate agent told us he had an offer not even five minutes after the house was put on the market. The buyer accepted the rather outrageous price we demanded without any bargaining. I always thought that weird, but back then I was so relieved that Lily and I had the money to see us through our last year that I didn't ask any questions.' Her eyes never left the photo in her hand while she talked.

His aunt's revelation made Harry sit bolt upright. 'I had no idea!' he exclaimed. A soft smile spread over his face. 'I suppose Dad heard that Mum needed money, and asked Grandfather to buy the house. After all I've heard about my parents, he was already infatuated with her back then, even though she wouldn't give him the time of the day.'

Daphne chuckled at that. 'Like father, like son, huh? Obviously, you both can't hide your Gryffindor side.'

He flashed her an amused smile, but then turned back to his aunt. 'Thanks for telling me. Do you want to live there?'

Aunt Petunia put the photo back on the table with a reminiscent smile, but she shook her head. 'No, thank you. I hated it up there, and swore never to return. If you don't mind, I'd like to live in the house in Bristol.' She picked up the photo of the house and showed it to Vernon. 'I think, living at the seaside would do you good, dear.' Looking at Harry, she added, 'Vernon will still need a long time to recuperate from his heart attack, and the doctors don't expect a full recovery.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Harry replied, and he meant it. He squared himself for the next part. Knowing his aunt and his uncle, he was sure this was going to be difficult.

'Dudley told me you lost your job, Uncle Vernon,' he began. 'I'm sorry about that. Nothing of this would have happened to you, hadn't I lived with you.' He made a motion with his hand that encompassed the whole room, while his uncle harrumphed. Though, he noticed that it lacked much of the anger and spite his uncle had shown towards him in the past.

'I feel responsible for you, and I want to compensate you for what you've lost. I've recently come into some money...' He felt Daphne silently chuckling beside him. "Some money" surely was the understatement of the year. 'However, to be able to transfer it to you from the wizarding world to your Muggle bank account I'll need to perform a magical ritual on each one of you that will make you a member of a magical family.'

His uncle and his aunt both blanched at his words. Uncle Vernon's face became even more ashen, if that was possible. Aunt Petunia took his hand, and looked him in the eyes.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. Never in all these years of living with the Dursleys he had seen his uncle and aunt being affectionately towards each other. Seeing them holding hands felt somehow indecent, and he shifted in his seat. He felt the urge to bounce his feet, while he watched the seemingly endless silent exchange between his aunt and uncle. Only Daphne's example, who sat beside him as calm and cool as a cucumber, kept him from showing his nervousness outwardly. Instead, he employed the calming breathing exercises she had taught him to keep himself under control.

The silence in the small room dragged on until it became oppressive.

'I'll do it,' Dudley's voice interrupted the silence. He got up from his chair. 'What do I have to do?'

His aunt let out a small whimper, while some colour returned into the grey cheeks of his uncle. Instead of recoiling into his seat, he sat upright. 'You can't allow that – that –' he started, but his voice and demeanour lacked the anger and spitefulness Harry had always associated with Uncle Vernon.

His wife interrupted what was a weak shadow of the diatribes he used to throw at Harry. 'Vernon, dear, please calm down. You oughtn't to get upset, the doctor said.' She put a hand on her husband's shoulder and patted it.

Uncle Vernon sunk back in his seat. The colour drained off his face, and he made a motion with his hand as if waving aside the whole world.

Aunt Petunia's eyes were full of pain as she looked at her husband.

Harry suddenly realised that he felt pity for his uncle and aunt. With pity came forgiveness. He motioned at his cousin to sit down. He had planned to give his relatives the choice between accepting the ritual – and the money –, or remain dependant on social aid. He never intended to give them any explanations. It was a small and probably catty way to get back at them for the many years they had kept the truth about his ancestry from him. In the face of what had become of them, he couldn't go on with his plan.

'Let me explain what I'll do before you make your decision,' he started. 'I found the spell I'm going to use on you in the Family Grimoire. That's a collection of spells, potions and other magical developments that are kept within the family and not shared with any outsiders. Trade secrets, so to speak,' he added for the benefit of Uncle Vernon.

To his amazement, his uncle nodded in understanding.

'This spell has been developed during the times of the Norman Conquest,' he went on with his explanation. 'The times were dangerous back then. Many families had lost their head and provider of income, and there were frequent Danish attacks. The Head of House Black at that time took pride in the fact that he cared for his Muggle neighbours, and used his magic to protect them from the frequent attacks. Even though he was very powerful, he couldn't prevent many Muggle children from becoming orphans. He felt it his duty to protect and provide for these children. Since they weren't magical, he thought of a way to include them into the protections Magic offers for magical families, and came up with the spell I'm going to use. Nowadays, the protection detail isn't that important anymore, though the connection the spell will create between you and me will let me know if you're in danger. Today, that spell is necessary if I want to make provisions from the Family Trust for people who are not magical, or not members of the family. Otherwise, I won't be able to access the trust on your behalf.'

His aunt and uncle exchanged another look. Then Aunt Petunia cleared her throat. 'Will – will the spell change us?' she asked.

At first, Harry was puzzled by the small, hopeful sparkle he saw in her eyes. Then he remembered the letter she had written to Dumbledore, and he shook his head. 'You'll be glad to know that the spell won't make you magical. All you'll feel is probably a sense of protection, if that much. It depends on how sensitive you are to magic.'

'Oh,' Aunt Petunia mouthed. The sparkle in her eyes died, and an expression akin to disappointment flickered across her face.

Dudley stood up once more. 'I'll do it,' he repeated.

This time, his parents didn't object.

Harry took out his wand. 'Are you sure, Big D?'

His cousin grinned at him. 'Just go ahead. Do you think I don't know how many times you dreamt about pointing that stick at me, and turning me into a guinea pig? You finally have your chance. So, what are you waiting for?'

'Scratch the "guinea", but other than that you're right,' Harry chuckled. He took a deep breath. While the spell wasn't long, it demanded a lot of concentration and power. He closed his eyes and let his magic flow through him. Then he raised his wand and performed the spell on Dudley.

A bright mist surrounded his cousin, and then slowly faded away.

'Wow, you did it silently,' Dudley said, while Daphne remarked, 'That mist was much brighter as the one you produced when you performed that spell on Andi and Teddy.'

Harry took another deep breath. 'It's probably because Dudley is a close blood relative of mine,' he told his wife. 'How are you feeling, Dudley?' he asked his cousin.

Dudley shrugged his massive shoulders. 'Not much different. But I somehow feel connected to you.'

'Good. That's exactly how it's supposed to be,' Harry told him. He then turned towards his aunt and uncle. 'Are you willing to let me perform the spell on you?'

Aunt Petunia took a deep, shuddering breath. She exchanged a last look with her husband, and then stood up. 'Go ahead,' she told her nephew with an audible gulp.

Harry could see the terror in her eyes. 'I won't hurt you,' he promised, and raised his wand. A second later, his aunt was surrounded by a mist as bright as the mist around Dudley had been.

'I don't feel anything,' she said after the mist had faded away. Harry thought he sensed a trace of disappointment in her voice. She sat down, and gave her husband a gentle nudge. 'It's your turn now, dear.'

Uncle Vernon got to his feet slowly and clumsily. He shook like a leaf when he stood in front of Harry in expectation of the spell.

Afraid that he might suffer another heart attack, Harry hurried to perform the spell on him. This time, the aura wasn't as bright as before.

'That confirms your assumption that the brightness of the aura depends on whether you perform the spell on a blood relative or not,' Daphne observed when the mist ebbed away.

'It looks like that,' Harry agreed, while he stashed his wand in his back pocket. He carefully avoided to look at Uncle Vernon, whose knees had given out the moment the spell had been performed, and now leaned back in the sofa, his eyes closed. Small beads of sweat formed on Uncle Vernon's forehead, while he clutched the area of his heart with his right hand.

Harry exchanged a look with his wife when he sat down beside her. The worry in her eyes mirrored his own concern about his uncle's state of health. Neither his uncle, nor his aunt were paying attention to him. Uncle Vernon's eyes were still closed, and Aunt Petunia leaned over him, patting his hand, and murmuring soothingly. He dared to cast a silent and wandless Diagnostic Charm on his uncle. It was one of the nifty spells he and Hermione had found when they went through the books Hermione had hoarded in her beaded bag; back during these endless days when they made no progress in the hunt for the Horcruxes, and went through the books over and over again in the hope to find a hint. To his relief, the spell told him that there was no imminent danger. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. 'He'll recover soon,' he whispered to Daphne.

Dudley looked at him with raised eyebrows. 'Have you performed healing magic on dad?'

Harry shook his head. 'Only a Diagnostic Charm. I was afraid for a moment.'

'Good,' Dudley said. The relief in his voice was palpable. 'We're worried about him. The docs say he's still very weak; it's a miracle he survived.'

Harry gave his cousin a noncommittal nod. The diagnostic charm had told him that his uncle was in a very bad shape, and probably wouldn't live another year, but there was no need to worry his cousin and aunt, besides that the charm he had used wasn't the most accurate, anyway.

They waited in silence until Uncle Vernon had recovered enough to open his eyes and sit up. To Harry's amazement, he gave him a small nod, that could have been meant as a nod of thanks.

'I'll have one of the Potter house elves taking care of the house,' Harry told his relatives. 'Bemmy has maintained the house during the last twenty years since my grandfather died. You only have to call him if you need something done at the house. He'll also help you to move, though you won't need much beside your personal things. The house is fully furnished. But please, don't overwork him. In tomorrow's mail, you'll be notified about the accounts that are set up in your name with a Muggle bank.'

His relatives stared at him, obviously having a hard to come to grips with the self-confident way their nephew and cousin took charge of their lives.

Soon after that Harry and Daphne took their leave. Originally, Harry had planned to apparate from his relative's living room, because he knew that would vex his aunt and uncle to no end. In the light of his uncle's weakness, however, he suppressed that childish urge.

As soon as they had left the living room and entered the narrow hallway, Aunt Petunia put a hand on Harry's arm. 'Wait a minute,' she told him, and vanished through another door that led into a bedroom. Seconds later she returned, a small jewellery box in her hands. 'It was beside you the day we found you on your doorstep,' she explained, shoving the box into Harry's hand. 'That headmaster of yours wrote we should have it to pay for your keep. I still remember how happy Lily was the day your father put it on her finger. She always wore it. How could I sell it?' Her voice sounded choked.

Harry held his breath as he opened the small box. On a bed of velvet was the biggest diamond ring he had ever seen. It gleamed faintly in the dim light of the windowless hallway. He shared a look with his wife over the open box. 'This was supposed to become your ring, Daphne.'

She shook her head. 'I don't need it, Harry. You already gave me your grandmother's ring, and I love it very much.'

He exchanged another look with his wife. As Daphne nodded slightly, he shut the box and handed it back to his aunt. 'Keep it, Aunt Petunia, and wear it in memory of your sister.'

His aunt stared at them, speechlessly, as they slipped out of the flat.

The moment the door to the Dursley's flat closed behind them, Daphne flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply.

'What was that for?' Harry asked, amused, as she finally broke off the kiss. 'Not that I'm complaining.'

'That's for you being you,' she told him with a radiant smile. 'You've got so much power on your hands, Harry, and yet you haven't once abused it. Just the contrary, you're using it to make people happy. You had your family at your mercy today, but instead of letting them have a dose of their own potion for the way they treated you, you handled them with respect and care. Don't get me started about the power you wield in our society!' She broke off, and kissed him again.

'Don't you think you're exaggerating, Daphne?' he asked.

She shook her head when she grabbed his arm to allow him to apparate her back to _The Hideaway_ . 'No, Harry. You're every inch a true Slytherin, powerful, yet not abusing your power. And that's why...' She broke off and turned beet red.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but she refused to say more, so he spun around and apparated them back home.

 **MY**

The annoying buzzing of the Banishing Box greeted them the moment they entered the house. Harry rolled his eyes, but went to gather the mail; however, not without having received a small nudge from his wife before. 'Slavedriver,' he muttered under his breath.

'I heard you,' Daphne called over her shoulder from her way to the kitchen.

As he had expected, there was a long list of Howlers sent to Daphne. He put it aside for Percy to deal with it, and joined his wife at the kitchen table. They read their mail while Breezy made the last preparations for lunch.

'Lisa asked to meet the gang tonight at the _Leaky Cauldron,_ ' Daphne told him as Breezy placed a bowl of soup in front of her. She gave the small creature a smile of thanks.

'That sounds like we'll be going out a lot this week,' Harry replied, also nodding his thanks at Breezy as she placed another bowl in front of him. 'Your Uncle Gordon invited us to dinner at the _Chat_ _Noir_ for Wednesday; he wants to talk to me about my duties as a member of the Wizengamot.'

Daphne gave him a stern look across the table. 'That settles it, Harry. Tomorrow, we'll be going to Twillfitt and Tattings and order more robes for you. We need to order our school robes, anyway.'

Harry groaned in response. 'Must I?'

'Stop whining. That's unbecoming of the Saviour-of-the-Magical-World,' his wife told him without a trace of sympathy in her voice, and ate another spoonful of soup.

 **MY**

Shortly after dinner, the Potters entered the _Leaky Cauldron_ from Charing Cross Road, both wearing Muggle clothes. They had decided on having dinner at a Muggle restaurant before meeting their friends, and dressed up for it: Daphne in a summer dress with a wide skirt that not quite reached her knees, but showed off her long, shapely legs in high heeled sandals, and Harry in tight black jeans, a button down shirt and a leather jacket.

Harry's arm was draped around Daphne's shoulders, and he laughed about something she said as they entered the pub. As always in the evening, the pub was crowded and noisy, but the moment the patrons recognised magical Britain's most talked about couple, all conversations ceased, until you could have heard a pin drop to the floor.

Daphne looked at Harry with wide, innocent eyes. 'Is something wrong with my dress?'

'You're as beautiful as always, my dear,' Harry assured her, with a trace of laughter in his voice, and kissed her cheek.

'Daphne, Harry, over here!' Lisa waved at them from a long table at the back of the pub.

Harry grabbed his wife by the hand, and they threaded their way through the silent crowd until they reached the table where their friends sat, casting broad smiles and lots of "excuse me" towards the still shell-shocked patrons of the pub while doing so. The greetings, when they finally reached their table, were boisterous.

'It seems as if the news about your impending separation were highly exaggerated, Potter,' Fabian Vaisey laughed as he clapped Harry on the shoulder in greeting.

Harry held out a chair for his wife to sit down. 'You know how Skeeter is, Vaisey. I swear, that rag of a newspaper has deteriorated even more ever since she started writing. One of these days she and her editor will find out they bit off more than they can swallow.'

Vaisey raised his eyebrows when he sat down. 'Is that so, Potter? Well, in that case you can count on the support of the House of Vaisey.'

'And the support of the House of Bletchley,' Miles Bletchley chimed in.

'Not to forget the House of Longbottom,' Neville smiled from the head of the table.

'Where a Potter leads, a Macmillan will follow,' Ernie said, somewhat pompously, and raised his glass to Harry.

'Hey, don't leave me out of that!' Terry exclaimed, and everyone broke out into laughter.

'Thanks, guys, Daphne and I really appreciate that,' Harry said as the laughter died down.

Hannah chose that moment to approach them and take their orders. As if finally recalling their manners, the patrons of the pub quit staring at them, and listening into their conversation, but resumed their own conversations.

'That was about time,' Lisa grumbled. 'Tell us, Harry, how did you and Daphne manage to get onto the front-page of the _Profit_ with that headline?'

'It's all Daphne's fault,' Harry grinned, and nodded his thanks at Hannah who just placed a butterbeer in front of him.

Daphne elbowed him in the ribs. 'I resent that, Potter!'

'Ouch, she's doing it again,' Harry complained, rubbing his side in an exaggerated way.

'You begged for it,' Daphne deadpanned, and took a sip of her Elven wine.

They laughed again.

'Stop bickering, children, and tell us what happened,' Vaisey said after the laughter had died down.

'Yes, _daddy,_ ' Harry grinned, of course setting off the gang once again.

Among much laughter and teasing, Harry and Daphne managed to tell the story of their visit at St. Mungo's. The hilarity knew no bounds when their friends discovered that the bludger Daphne had sent at her husband resulted in an assumption of domestic violence.

'Tell me, why do things like that always happen to you, Harry?' Dean wheezed, and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

'The Wrackspurts must've got to him once again,' Luna remarked serenely.

'I have no idea,' Harry replied, ignoring Luna's remark with long practice, and drained his mug of butterbeer. 'I didn't think it especially funny when I discovered the article yesterday. I know that the newspapers are bound to be curious about my life, and by extension also about Daphne. I've got used to it, but I'll draw a line where they write outrageous lies about my wife.' His eyes became dark with anger.

That sobered the mood.

'You're absolutely right, Harry,' Fabian Vaisey finally agreed. 'It's not a laughing matter that they spread details about your visit at St. Mungo's in the newspaper, thus violating your privacy and turning around a harmless teasing you, Daphne and the Healer had. As I said before, I'm on your side with everything you decide to do against that newspaper.'

The others nodded in agreement.

From there, the conversation turned to happier topics. Hannah had persuaded Tom, the barkeeper, to put up a dart board at the back of the room. Dean took it upon himself to introduce his friends to the popular pub game. With exception of Harry and Dean, they had all been brought up in the magical world and never heard about darts.

Soon, the group of young people was engaged in a boisterous game that got noisier as the night – and with it the consumption of butterbeer and Firewhiskey – progressed. It didn't take long, and the young wizards and witches tried to come up with magical ways to play the game. However, their aim deteriorated the longer the night went on. They were caught by surprise when Tom announced the last round, and parted with much laughter and promises to see each other soon at Ernie and Morag's joint stag-and-hen party.

 **MY**

The next morning Harry woke up with a massive hangover.

'Look at it from the bright side,' his wife told him as she handed him a phial with Hangover Potion. 'You're already married and can't make the same mistake again.'

He grabbed for the potion like a drowning man for the life buoy, and downed it in one gulp. 'Who said I made a mistake?' he then smiled at Daphne and got out of bed, leaving his wife speechless as he sauntered towards the bathroom. A long shower helped a lot to restore him. He felt as good as new when he sat down at the breakfast table.

Daphne leafed through the pages of the _Daily Prophet_ , a frown on her face. 'They didn't print a word about Percy's press statement,' she told him.

'That's not surprising, isn't it?' Harry replied, grabbing for the sports section of the newspaper. 'They wouldn't print anything that casts them in a bad light. Percy also sent it to the foreign newspapers and _The Quibbler,_ didn't he? You can bet they will have a field day with it.'

Daphne nodded at that, and began to read the society column. Not even a minute later she let out an angry hiss.

'What's the matter, kitty?' Harry asked, looking up from an analysis of the latest game of Puddlemere United against the Ballycastle Bats.

'Look for yourself,' she replied and handed him the newspaper, pointing out the article that had affronted her with her index finger.

The article wasn't long, just a mere three lines about Harry having met with friends at the _Leaky Cauldron_ last night, and leaving in a rather inebriated state. However, there was no word about Daphne.

'Technically, they told the truth,' Harry said, handing the newspaper back to his wife.

'Yeah, but after the article they printed on Sunday, everyone will just assume that you went to the _Leaky Cauldron_ alone to drown your sorrows about your unhappy marriage,' Daphne replied, biting her lips.

Harry sighed and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. 'Daphne, I hate to tell you, but when it comes to me, the magical world will always "assume", and never bother to ask for the truth. You know that their assumptions are wrong, I know that their assumptions are wrong, and our friends also know. That's all that matters to me. All we can do is prevent the newspapers from printing outright lies; we can't change the idiocy of the wizarding community.'

'That's not fair,' his wife whispered, obviously at the brink of tears.

Harry got up and gathered her in his arms. 'Fair is where they judge pigs, kitty. You'll have to learn not to let them get to you.'

She let out a rather watery laugh as she buried her head at his shoulder. 'I'll try.'

 **MY**

After breakfast, Daphne dragged a protesting Harry to Twilfitt and Tattings.

'Stop whining, Harry. If you're a good boy, I'll treat you to lunch at that new cafe on Diagon Alley,' she promised.

Harry knew when he had lost a battle with her, and resigned to his fate. 'You know, Daphne, you're enjoying this far too much,' he told his grinning wife as he took her arm to apparate her to Diagon Alley.

Three hours later, an exhausted Harry and a highly satisfied Daphne emerged from the tailor's shop.

'That wasn't that bad for one morning,' Daphne remarked as she linked arms with him. 'We've ordered our Hogwarts robes, you finally have enough dress robes and casual robes befitting to your standing, and we even managed to order your formal Wizengamot robes.'

'Yeah, and my feet are killing me, and I've almost been pricked to death by magical pins,' Harry grumbled.

Daphne gave him a peck on the cheek. 'Poor boy,' she crooned. 'You'll feel better after you've had your lunch.' With that, she dragged him to the cafe that recently had opened in the rooms of Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour.

The cafe was crowded, they found out to their dismay. While they were still looking for an empty table, a woman with flaming red hair waved at them. 'Daphne, Harry, come and join us!'

Their faces lit up when they recognised Moira and Aaron Vaisey. Hand in hand they walked to their table, while the other patrons eyed them curiously, and then stuck their heads together and whispered.

Moira and Aaron greeted them warmly. Soon, the two couples were engaged in a lively talk about their families.

'You said you've got two sons, Moira,' Harry asked. 'I've already met Fabian. Where's your other son?'

'Gideon is on vacation in France,' Moira told him. 'He'll be a Slytherin sixth year prefect next school year.' The pride in her voice was evident.

'Fabian and Gideon – you named your sons after your brothers, didn't you?' Harry mused.

Moira nodded, a sad smile on her face. 'Yes, that's true. My brothers never would've tolerated Molly's behaviour. Both of them were rather open minded.'

'Sorry, Moira, I didn't want to bring back bad memories,' Harry excused himself.

'You didn't,' Moira assured him, and surreptitiously wiped away a tear. 'Hardly anyone talks to me about my brothers, thinking it'll make me sad. It's like killing them all over again.'

Harry gave her a broad smile. 'In that case, will you tell Daphne and me about your brothers?'

'I'd love to,' Moira replied. Over their meal, she entertained them with stories about her brothers that had Harry and Daphne in stitches.

'Now, I know from which part of the family the twins inherited their prankster genes,' Harry laughed.

'No doubt about that,' Moira agreed, also laughing. Then she sobered. 'I've been told the older twin was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts? How's Molly coping?'

Harry also sobered. 'Not good, I'm afraid. She already was a mother-hen when I first came to the _Burrow,_ but after Fred's death she got even worse; downright suffocating. She forbade Ron to accompany Hermione - that's our mutual friend - on a trip to Australia to search for her parents, saying it was too dangerous to go there on a Muggle plane. When she discovered that Ron had left without her permission, she cried for three days in a row.'

Moira thoughtfully traced the rim of her glass with a finger. 'I can see where she's coming from,' she said quietly. 'We lost our brothers during the first war. Losing a child must be tenfold more painful.'

They fell into silence.

The bright flash of a camera startled them out of their pensive mood. Stars danced in front of Harry's eyes as he looked up to see who had taken a photo of them without bothering to ask. Rita Skeeter's gold teeth flashed at him. Her smile reminded him somehow of the pictures of sharks he had seen in his science book when he was still at primary school.

'Skeeter!' he spat. 'Who gave you the permission to take our picture?'

Skeeter gave him a false smile. 'Well, you're a person of public interest, Harry; especially since your marital problems have come into the open.'

'You mean, since you've made them up,' Harry corrected her hotly. He was about to jump up and hit that stupid woman in the face, when Daphne put a hand on his arm. 'Don't heed her, Harry,' she said with a clear voice. 'She's trying to goad you into a statement she can use against you.'

Skeeter rummaged in her crocodile leather handbag, finally pulling her notepad and her poison-green Quick-Quotes-Quill out of it. Without asking for permission, she pulled an empty chair from the next table towards her, and sat down at their table between Harry and Moira. The look she gave Daphne could only be described as murderous. 'Any comments about the state of your alleged marriage, Miss Greengrass?'

'The name is Potter,' Harry and Daphne corrected her unison.

'Nobody invited you to sit next to us, Skeeter,' Aaron's calm voice interrupted Skeeter before she could ask her next question. 'Since I know how persistent your kind is, we're going to take our leave now.' He stood up.

The others followed his example. They hastily made their way to the exit, Harry and Aaron dropping a couple of galleons at the cashier, and left the cafe.

'Quick! She's following us,' Aaron murmured.

The two couples hastened through the crowded alley to the _Leaky_ _Cauldron_ . Harry looked over his shoulder. Aaron was right. Skeeter was not far behind them, her faithful photographer Gozo in tow.

When they reached the pub, they exchanged a hasty good bye with the Vaiseys. The older couple then took the Floo, while Harry and Daphne continued through the exit to Charing Cross Road. The second they left the pub, Skeeter and Gozo burst into the taproom through the entrance from the alley.

Hand in hand, they ran to the side alley beside the pub to apparate back home from there. Harry gripped Daphne around her waist and started to spin. The moment he apparated them away, he saw a frustrated Skeeter appear in the entrance of the alley.

 **MY**

'That was a near thing,' Harry panted as they appeared in front of _The Hideaway_ .

'Yeah,' his wife agreed, tucking a strand of hair that had come out of her ponytail behind her ear. 'The next time I see that woman, I'm going to hex her first, and ask questions later.'

'You'll also want to look out for green beetles,' Harry told her, putting his arm around her shoulder to walk her inside the house.

She looked up to him, a surprised expression on her face. 'What do you mean, Harry?'

On their way into the house Harry told her everything about Skeeter's Animagus form.

'That's how she managed to stay in contact with Malfoy during the Triwizard Tournament,' Daphne exclaimed. 'I knew he was giving her information, but I've always wondered...'

She was interrupted by the persistent noise of the Banishing Box. With an amused side glance at her groaning husband she slipped out from under his arm, and went into the study to gather their mail.

'Percy kept word and sent us the translations of the articles about our press statement in the foreign newspapers and the _Quibbler_ ,' she told him when she joined him in the living room, a thick wad of papers in her hands.

Harry had made himself comfortable in a corner of the big sofa. Daphne sat down beside him, leaning back against his chest. He slid an arm around her waist, and together they read the articles Percy had sent them, Harry looking over Daphne's shoulder.

The international European press and the big newspapers of the Commonwealth countries unanimously applauded their decision to go against the _Sunday Prophet_ , reminding their readers of the disreputable role the British magical press had played in slandering Harry's reputation during and after the Triwizard Tournament, thus " _endangering the fragile self-esteem of a teenage boy who had not_ _only been entered into that horrible tournament against his will, but also had no adult in his corner who cared enough for him to put an end to the harassment by the self-styled star reporter Skeeter,"_ the French _Paris Match Magique_ wrote. The _Magical Times of India_ pointed out that by the way the British press had continued to slander Harry's name after the tournament, they not only _"aided the corrupt British Ministry for Magic to suppress the news of the return of Voldemort, but prevented the guileless British magical population from preparing themselves for the impending war. Not to mention the danger that ostrich-like stance posed for the other Commonwealth countries, since Voldemort's followers tried to recruit new members for their terrorist group in these countries."_

'I suppose neither Skeeter, nor the owners of the _Profit_ will like this,' Daphne remarked.

'I bet,' Harry snorted. His expression became thoughtful.

Daphne gave him a curious side glance. 'What are you scheming, husband of mine?'

'I just thought about the rules for the press of the Muggle world some of these newspapers pointed out, and that have obviously been adopted by other magical governments. Skeeter said I'm a person of public interest, and that gives her the right to take photos of me. Well, I agree as long I'm attending official functions, for example taking my seat on the Wizengamot. I think it's taking it too far to say she's allowed to take pictures of me wherever she pleases.'

'You've got a point there,' Daphne agreed with a straight face. 'I don't want to see pictures of my husband taken in the men's room, with his trousers down, popping up in the _Profit.'_

Harry choked, then laughed out loud. 'You're impossible,' he told his wife when he had regained the capability of speech. 'I wouldn't put it past Skeeter to do just that.'

He dropped a kiss on Daphne's head and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa to get up. 'I'm going to write to Percy about Skeeter's stunt of today. He'll have to extend the lawsuit, I'm afraid.'

 **MY**

They found out about the reaction of the owners of the two _Prophets_ to the articles in the international press, and Skeeter's reaction in particular, the next morning at breakfast. If a newspaper could foam at the mouth, that edition of the _Daily Prophet_ did.

 **ATTACK ON THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS!**

 **by**

 **Rita Skeeter**

That headline greeted them when they sat down at the table. The article beneath the headline accused Harry of using his fame to gag the press.

Inside of the newspaper, in the society column, they found the picture Skeeter's photographer had taken of them at the cafe when they were thinking of what the war had cost Molly Weasley. It showed Daphne and Harry sitting side by side, staring down at their plates, and a pensive expression on their faces. Moira and Aaron had been cut out of the photo.

' _Strained Silence Between the Alleged Spouses!_ ' Harry read aloud the caption under the photo.

'That was to be expected, wasn't it?' Daphne replied, looking over his shoulder. 'After all, we did nothing short of declaring war on her and her employers. I suppose we have to get used to a lot of more nasty headlines until this is over.'

Harry grabbed for her hand that rested on his shoulder. 'I never wanted to drag you into this, Daphne.'

She gave him a kiss on the cheek before she slid into her seat at the table. 'Don't worry about me, Harry. Do you remember our conversation at the _Georgian Tearoom_ ? We knew back then that we'd become the focus of the press eventually. We agreed to face the storm together, remember, and present a united front to the world. As long as we stick to that plan, they can't harm us.'

Harry mumbled his agreement, but as he looked at the faint lines of strain that had appeared around her eyes when she read the article, he wondered if his young bride wasn't in for more than she could tolerate.

 **MY**

'Daphne, Harry, it's nice to see you,' their hostess Mary McDougal greeted them as they approached their table at the _Chat Noir._

To the amazement – and joy – of the Potters their hosts had also invited Alex and Susanne Potter, who had come over by International Portkey from Switzerland. The elder Potters greeted their young relatives warmly. Only seconds after Harry and Daphne the last guests of the dinner party arrived: Kingsley Shacklebolt and his lady-friend Hestia Jones.

'Why, I'm of the impression that it's no accident that you also invited Alex and Kingsley when you want to talk to me about my seat at the Wizengamot, Gordon?' Harry asked, spreading the napkin over his lap after the first course had been served, and their host had cast a Privacy Ward.

Kingsley let out a booming laugh. 'I've told you he'd catch on as soon as he saw Alex and me, Gordon.'

Gordon joined the laughter. 'You're right, Harry,' he then told his young guest. 'I not only wanted to give you an overview of what to expect during your first Wizengamot session, but Alex and Kingsley wanted to ask you for your help with a special project.'

Harry frowned, and gave his mentor and his cousin a sharp look. 'You'd better not want me to make your poster-boy,' he warned.

Alex looked alarmed at the venom in Harry's words, but Kingsley only chuckled. 'Calm down, Harry,' he advised his young friend. 'When Gordon said we need your help, he meant more than giving your name for one of our projects. We need you to work with us.'

'Oh, in that case it's all right, I guess,' Harry replied, the frown disappearing from his face.

Daphne shook her head at him with a small chuckle. 'You'd better ask them what they want from you before you make any promises, Harry.'

That had Kingsley laugh again. 'So, your wife has also become one of your advisors, Harry?'

'Absolutely,' Harry agreed, and dabbed his mouth with his napkin before he took a sip of wine. Thus fortified, he asked, 'First things first, what will I have to do as a member of the Wizengamot?'

'Straight to the point,' Gordon said approvingly. 'Well, _balach_ , as a member of the Wizengamot you'll have to attend the meetings regularly. The meetings are scheduled for the Wednesday afternoons every third week of the month, beginning in September, and lasting through to May. Most members of the Wizengamot are members of a faction. The factions usually meet the Wednesday a week before the Wizengamot session, and prepare for the topics that will be discussed.'

Harry quickly did the math in his head. 'I'll have to attend to twenty meetings during my last Hogwarts year.' He exchanged a look with Daphne. His free time quickly dissolved into nothingness, with the workload of his last year, his duties as head boy and now his duties as a member of the Wizengamot on top of it. Not to mention, the frequent meetings with Director Ragnok and his other managers that were necessary to keep him up to date with the ongoing in the management of the Potter Holdings. He began to wonder if he would still be able to play on the Quidditch team that year.

'At a minimum,' Gordon replied to Harry's horror. 'Every now and then an emergency meeting is scheduled on short notice.'

Harry exchanged another look with Daphne. 'It's going to be a tough year,' she remarked, taking his hand.

The older adults chuckled. 'Nobody said it's going to be easier as soon as you're of age,' Hestia winked at them.

'No kidding,' Harry agreed. He shot a grin to Alex and Kingsley. 'I have no idea how I'll find the time to help you with your plans, but just go ahead and spill it.'

Kingsley chuckled, putting down his cutlery, and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. 'Well, our plans have to do with your dream to kick magical Britain into the 20th century, Harry. You remember that we talked about that right after the war?'

Harry nodded, vividly remembering the long nightly conversations he and Kingsley had had in the Great Hall of Hogwarts when they both were unable to sleep because of the horrors they had been through. They had discussed how to get rid of the corruption in the British magical world, and how to introduce more democracy.

'It's not only about modernising the British magical society,' Alex interjected. 'As I told you when we last met, Harry, Magical Britain has always lived separately from the other European countries. That's dangerous, because the rest of magical Europe is quickly developing away from them.'

'When the ICW agreed on the Statute of Secrecy, and the magical population decided to hide from the Muggles, Europe was less populated than it's nowadays,' Kingsley picked up the thread from Alex. 'It was rather easy to hide from the Muggles at the magical places that were for hundreds of years populated by wizards and witches. For some strange reason we do not yet understand, the Muggles tended to settle down in the same places.' He paused to take a spoonful of his soup.

'As you can imagine, that leads to a lot of problems,' Alex continued seamlessly. By the way he and Kingsley kicked the ball of the conversation between them, Harry felt strongly reminded of the twins. 'In Europe, especially in the small, crowded countries like the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg, but also Switzerland, wizards and witches have changed their view on the Statute of Secrecy. Out of sheer necessity they stopped hiding themselves, but chose to hide their magic instead. After the gruelling experiences with Grindelwald and the huge death toll of that war, the bigger countries like France, Spain, Italy and Germany followed suit.' He took a sip of his wine, and then went on. 'Today's stance on the Statute of Secrecy in Europe is rather to hide the magic than ourselves. We live and work side by side with our Muggle neighbours. Our kids are sent to Muggle school. Quite a lot of us have Muggle friends. I've been told it's not much different in the Asian countries.'

'That sounds too good to be true,' Daphne interjected with a dreamy voice. 'Just imagine – not having to wear those ugly, old fashioned robes anymore!'

The whole party broke out into laughter, Daphne included.

'I can imagine you'd like that, kitty,' Harry chuckled. His chuckles subsided, however, when he turned to Kingsley and Alex. 'You want my help in changing the attitude of the British magical population towards the Statute of Secrecy? Thank you very much, that's a job for someone who likes a hopeless mission.' He rolled his eyes, while he fortified himself with a sip of wine.

'Well, that's just down your alley then, isn't it?' Kingsley deadpanned.

Harry couldn't help himself, he had to join the laughter that followed Kingsley's comment. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up Daphne's efforts in taming it for their visit at the sophisticated restaurant. His wife rolled her eyes at him, but Harry ignored her. 'Honestly, I wouldn't have an idea how to do that.'

'I disagree,' Alex replied. 'You and Daphne just need to continue what you're already doing.'

Both Potters gave him a look full of incomprehension.

'In the short weeks of your marriage, you and Daphne have already become the epitome of a young, modern magical couple,' Kingsley elaborated. 'Though you didn't make a statement about it, everybody knows that you've spent your honeymoon at a Muggle resort, and even went there by plane. The few times you made an appearance in Diagon Alley, you always wore Muggle clothes. Each piece you wore has been discussed in the ladies' magazines immediately afterwards. Madam Malkin is making a pretty galleon these days by selling copies of the clothes you wear.'

Harry snorted. 'I never would've thought I'll become a fashion icon one day.'

That remark earned him another round of laughter.

'It's not only a matter of fashion,' Alex told him after the laughter had died down. 'The circle of friends you and Daphne chose is also remarkable. It covers the width of our society, from Purebloods to Muggleborns. Also, you included members of all four houses, and didn't stick to just Gryffindors. That has not only be noticed by the population, but was also well received.'

Gordon cleared his throat. 'You have no clue how many people are afraid that you'll use your fame to promote only your Gryffindor friends, Harry, thus ousting alumni from other houses from leading positions at the Ministry, and causing the political tide to turn to the Muggleborns. They're afraid that this will mean the end of many of our cherished traditions. In their eyes, it means exchanging the dictatorship of the Pureblood class against the dictatorship of the Muggleborn class. That attitude is dangerous. For the changes our society needs, we need to get all parts of the magical population on board.'

Kingsley nodded to that. 'That's the reason why I'm happy you're attending the Wizengamot under Gordon's guidance. While we all agree that changes of our government and society are necessary, we'll fail if we don't manage to persuade the vast majority of the magical population of that. With your and Daphne's help that'll be much easier. You epitomise the best of both worlds.'

Daphne and Harry had listened to the three older men in silence. Now they exchanged a look. 'I've never looked at it this way,' Harry mused, Daphne nodding to his words.

'We want you to continue with what you're already doing, only to advertise it a bit more,' Alex went on. 'We know that you're currently fighting the bad press you're getting from Skeeter and the _Prophet_ . The wizarding magazines as _Witch Weekly_ and _Teen_ _Witch_ are still on your side, and so are the international newspapers. All you'll have to do right now is to stop and talk to their correspondents when you attend official functions.'

Again, Daphne and Harry exchanged a look. 'I don't think I've ever seen another reporter than Rita Skeeter,' Harry said.

'There was a photographer of the _Sunday Prophet_ at our ball,' Daphne contradicted. 'Mother invited him, but I know he wasn't allowed to approach us or any of the guests for statements. Though, I have to agree, I can't remember having seen a reporter of the magical magazines or the international press once when I attended an official function with my parents.'

Kingsley let out a rumbling laugh. 'I easily believe you, Mrs Potter. The _Prophet_ is controlled by the members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. So, only their reporters are tolerated at most Pureblood events.'

'You'll meet representatives of the magical magazines and the international press at Morag and Ernie's wedding,' Gordon told them between two bites of the excellent _Chateaubriand_ with _Sauce Bernaise_ they had been served. 'Neither Ernest Macmillan nor I are averse to let them report from important events of our families, if it helps to promote the cause of the light traditionalists.'

Daphne looked thoughtful. 'I think we can do that,' she finally said.

Harry grimaced, not liking the thought of seeking out any member of the press, but nodded to Daphne's words.

'Thank you,' Alex and Kingsley said unison, both looking immensely relieved.

From there, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Gordon regaled them with anecdotes about his first year on the Wizengamot that had them in stitches. It was already rather late when the party broke off.

 **MY**

The opportunity to carry out their promise to Kingsley and Alex presented itself the next night. Ernie and Morag were getting married the coming Saturday, and had invited all their friends to a joint stag-and-hen-night at the _Barnabas the Barmy_ , a newly opened, Muggle style night club on Knockturn Alley.

'It's the newest place to be seen,' Daphne told Harry over her shoulder as she sat at her dresser and applied her make-up.

He snorted. 'I take your word for that, kitty. You know I don't care a damn about these things.'

'Neither do I,' she smiled at him in the mirror, while she fidgeted with the tube of lipstick. 'Lisa told me when we met at the _Leaky_ _Cauldron_ . She keeps up to date about things like that.'

She stood up and whirled around. 'How do I look?'

Harry gulped. 'You look just – _wow_ !'

She wore a red halter-top dress with a flaring skirt that ended way above her knees and left a good deal of her back bare. Matching high heels, and the earrings he had given her as a wedding present, completed an outfit that was bound to scandalise every conservative Pureblood in magical Britain, especially since it was worn by a scion of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. 'Must we really go to that party?'

She purred with delight, but put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away. 'Yes, we must. You can play later, Harry!'

'You're no fun, Daphne,' he groused.

She gave him an impish grin. 'Just the contrary; you have way too much fun with me.'

'Minx!' he grinned. He looked at his watch. 'We should get ready. Our portkey is due in five minutes.'

They walked down to the living room and picked the invitation from the mantle of the fireplace, which would serve as the portkey. Seconds later, they were whisked away and landed in a roped in area in the foyer of the club. A security wizard greeted them, checked their invitation, and then ushered them to the lobby of the club.

Harry got an impression of red carpets and mirrored walls. A line of wizards and witches had already formed in front of them, all waiting to greet their hosts who stood at the entrance of the club. Finally, it was their turn. They both hugged a beaming Morag and Ernie, and then went into the club.

Blaring music and a staccato of light greeted them. Harry was not surprised when he saw Lee Jordan in the DJ's booth. This was just down his alley. The dance floor in front of the stage was already crowded with people. Off the dance floor was an area with comfortable looking leather lounges and small tables for drinks.

Lisa and Terry waved at them from one of these lounges. Harry and Daphne threaded their way alongside the edge of the dance floor until they reached their friends.

Thanks to excellent charm work, the music was still audible in the lounge area, but not as loud as to make conversation impossible. They greeted Lisa, Terry, Neville, Hannah, and took a seat. In the adjoining lounges, Harry could see Dean and Luna with the Patil twins and their dates, two Indian men in their early twenties who looked so much alike that Harry was sure they were also twins. Fabian Vaisey and Miles Bletchley waved at them from another lounge. They both had girls by their side Harry vaguely remembered as Ravenclaws two years ahead of them.

Since the _Barnabas the Barmy_ boasted to be a Muggle style pub, they served only Muggle drinks. Harry knew that he was going to have to apparate later in the night, if he didn't want to rouse Sunny out of his sleep, so he decided to stay with coke. Daphne, however, had acquired a taste for Muggle cocktails during their honeymoon. She and Lisa poured over the drinks menu, and finally decided on a Bellini.

'Oh, that tastes wonderful,' Lisa remarked after their drinks had been served. However, neither she nor Daphne were capable to sit for long. Soon, they dragged Terry and Harry onto the dance floor. Hannah and Neville followed suit.

Harry had no idea how long they danced, but he enjoyed dancing with Daphne, as he had at the ball. When they finally returned to their lounge, Morag and Ernie, Luna and Dean and Fabian Vaisey and Miles Bletchley with their dates joined them. The lounges were designed to house eight people at the most. Conveniently forgetting that they were witches and thus capable to solve the problem with a simple Extension Charm, the girls silently and unanimously decided to save room by sitting down on the lap of their significant other.

Daphne put one arm around Harry's neck and played with the hair at the nape of his neck, while she and Lisa chatted a mile a minute. Harry sat wedged between Terry and Neville. He enjoyed holding his wife, his arm wrapped around her slim waist, and discussed the latest Quidditch results with his friends, when the light of a camera blinded them.

He let out an inward groan. Not that Skeeter woman again, he thought. When the stars that danced in front of his eyes eventually faded away, he saw a small, pudgy woman smiling at them from under dark bangs. There was nothing of the malice that was so typical for Skeeter in her round, chocolate brown eyes.

'Thank you for the lovely picture, dears,' she smiled at them. 'The readers of _Witch Weekly_ will be delighted to see that our youth is having fun after the dark times we've had.'

'It's our pleasure, Mrs Herr,' Ernie replied politely.

With a farewell smile, the reporter from _Witch Weekly_ made her way to the next lounge to take photos.

Harry bent forward and looked at Ernie from behind Daphne's back.

Surprised by the sudden unexpected movement, his wife shrieked and flung both arms around him to keep her seat.

'Don't worry, kitty; I've got you safe,' he grinned at her. Then he turned to Ernie. 'Who was that?'

'That was Trude Herr, a reporter from _Witch Weekly._ She's one of the nicer ones of her profession. Dad always makes a point to talk to her, and he advised me to do the same,' his friend replied.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. His eyes followed the reporter as she made her way among the lounges, taking photos and having a brief chat with all the guests. He couldn't help but notice that her eyes moved to Daphne and him ever so often.

'Maybe we should run into her "accidentally" later this evening, and talk to her,' Daphne said into his ear under the cover of the music and the ongoing conversations, while she still played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

'Good idea,' Harry replied and kissed her cheek.

Shortly after that, the girls decided that they wanted to dance some more. Harry enjoyed himself, but suddenly Daphne grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off the dance floor. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, but she only smirked in reply. She led him out of the main room, into the empty foyer, where she gave him a little push towards one of the deep leather chairs that stood there. The moment he sat down, she was in his lap and kissed him until he thought he was on fire.

'So much for the rumours about marriage problems,' an amused voice behind Daphne's back said.

Harry broke off the kiss, slightly disorientated. However, though she masked it very well, he could see a triumphant gleam in Daphne's eyes. He peered around her back.

Trude Herr grinned at him like a player who had just won the jackpot. In the terms of her profession, she probably had.

Harry looked at his wife. The smugness in her eyes was even more pronounced. 'Sly little snake! You've planned this,' he mouthed to her.

Daphne didn't deny it. She bent towards him and gave him a quick kiss, before she turned around in his lap and smiled at the reporter in front of them. 'They are just that, rumours,' she told the reporter. 'There's not an ounce of truth about them.'

Mrs Herr took a seat in the chair opposite of them. 'Why did your husband end at St Mungo's that night, Mrs Potter and why did you claim that you hurt him?' she asked.

'It happened during a Quidditch game with friends,' Harry informed her. Daphne still sat on his lap, and he had his arms wrapped around her waist, while she had her left arm slung around his neck. 'We played on opposing teams; Daphne as beater, and I as seeker. When I was about to catch the Snitch, Daphne sent a bludger at me. It was a fair move; I'd have done the same in her place. Unfortunately, the damned thing hit me straight in the ribs. I've had worse during Quidditch games, though, and managed to heal most of it during the game. When Daphne saw the big bruise after we'd returned home, she freaked out and insisted that I had to see a Healer.'

'The healer made a joke and asked Harry if he got the bruise by playing Quidditch or because of domestic violence,' Daphne continued. 'Someone probably listened in and told the press; I guess that's how the rumour started.'

'I see,' Mrs Herr nodded. 'However, that story caused a lot of trouble for you. Personally, I wish you good luck with your lawsuit against the _Prophet_ and Skeeter.' The way she spoke the name of her colleague wasn't a raucous applause for the self-proclaimed star reporter. She started, as if an idea hit her. 'Mrs and Mr Potter, would you like to do an inside story with _Witch Weekly_ ?'

Harry doubted that this was a sudden idea. The question probably was as random as their arranged run in with the reporter.

Daphne turned around and looked at him. They both knew that this was exactly what Kingsley and Alex wanted them to do, so Harry gave his wife a short nod. She turned back to the reporter. 'We'd love to,' she smiled. 'We'll owl you the place and the time, is that alright with you?'

'Absolutely,' Mrs Herr smiled. 'One last question, if you don't mind. What about the reports that you're trying to become the next Minister of Magic when the Wizengamot meets again in September, Mr Potter?'

Harry and Daphne burst out laughing. That had been the headline of today's _Daily Prophet_ . Of course, their meeting with Gordon and Kingsley had not been unnoticed. Thanks to the excellent privacy charms Gordon had put up, the other patrons of the restaurant Skeeter had interviewed about that meeting could only speculate about the contents of their conversation. As always, Skeeter had made up for that with her own creations.

'Sorry, but I have other plans, Harry told the reporter, still laughing. 'If you allude to the meeting we had yesterday with Gordon McDougal and Minister Shacklebolt, it wasn't anything that exciting. I've discovered lately that I've inherited a seat on the Wizengamot from my godfather. Gordon McDougal offered to be my mentor for the first year. Minister Shacklebolt and I fought together during the war, and Alex Potter is my cousin. Since I wasn't raised for it and have no idea what awaits me at the Wizengamot, the three men graciously agreed to introduce me to my new duties. Yesterday's meeting was the first of many still to come, I'm afraid.'

The reporter also laughed. 'How boring!' Then she stood up. 'I don't want to intrude on your privacy any longer,' she winked at them, and walked back to the main room of the club.

'Well, that went better than expected,' Daphne said with a broad smile after the door had closed behind the reporter.

'That was a masterstroke, Daphne. Remind me never to get on your bad side,' Harry said, and kissed her on the cheek. 'You'd probably run circles around me.'

'Don't you forget it, Mr Potter,' she smiled, and kissed him back.

 **MY**

Regardless of their late return after Ernie and Morag's party – Harry had apparated them back home in the wee hours of the morning – they were up early the next morning for their appointment with Headmistress McGonagall. They both had been mindful not to drink too much, so they didn't suffer from a hangover. A few cups of tea helped them to become fully awake, and soon they were on their way to Hogwarts.

Harry apparated them to the entrance gates. Hagrid was still travelling, so it was Professor Flitwick who opened the gates for them.

'Ah, Mrs and Mr Potter! It's a pleasure to see you. Let me congratulate you on your nuptials.'

Harry and Daphne thanked the diminutive professor for his well-wishes, and together they walked up to the castle. Harry let his eyes wander around the grounds and the castle exterior. The Black Lake blinked in the summer sun, with the giant squid lazily luxuriating on the surface. The castle stood tall and proud as always. Nothing on the outside had remnants of the fierce battle that had taken place there three months ago.

He felt how Daphne's small hand stole into his and pressed it lightly as he turned his head to look at his wife. 'I'm good, kitty,' he smiled into her concerned eyes.

She looked as if she didn't believe him, but let it go as they reached the entrance. Professor Flitwick opened the door. Together, they entered the castle and parted ways with the Charms Professor on the third floor. While Professor Flitwick turned into the direction of his classroom and office, to make the last preparations for the upcoming term as he said, Daphne and Harry continued to the headmistress' office.

Inside, the castle looked as immaculate as on the outside. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Daphne slid her arm around his waist as they walked on, hugging him lightly. 'You've been apprehensive to return, haven't you?'

'Yes,' he admitted. 'I was afraid I'd be reminded of the battle at every turn I take. Hogwarts looks as always, as if the battle has never taken place. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I'm not haunted by the ghosts of the battle, but somehow this immaculate state also feels wrong.'

She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked on. 'I think, I see what you mean. It's as if we're forgetting about everything that happened in order to move on. We have to remember these dark times, and teach future generations about them, or it will happen again.'

They had reached the gargoyle that guarded the spiralling staircase that led to the headmistress' office, so Harry was excused from an answer. To his amazement, the gargoyle jumped aside without asking them for a password. Silently holding hands, they rode up the staircase to the door of the headmistress' office.

'Come in,' they heard Headmistress McGonagall's clipped voice as they knocked on the door.

Still holding hands, they entered the office.

Headmistress McGonagall sat behind the big desk that had already served Dumbledore, but when they entered the room, she got up and walked around the desk to greet them.

'Mrs and Mr Potter! I'm happy you agreed to this meeting. Firstly, take my heartfelt congratulations on your marriage.' Her gaze fell on their still entwined hands. 'I'm also happy to see that Skeeter's article about your supposed marriage problems are nothing but her usual hogwash.'

Harry laughed as he shook hands with his former head of house. 'It surely is, Professor McGonagall.'

Instead of sitting behind her desk once again, and inviting Daphne and Harry to take a seat on the visitor's chairs in front of it, Professor McGonagall led them to a small seating area in front of the open window. While they walked over and took a seat – Harry and Daphne side by side on the small sofa – Harry surreptitiously examined the familiar room.

The pictures of the former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were still on the wall. Most of them were dozing in their seats, but Harry could see they were faking it, ever so often glancing at Professor McGonagall and her visitors from under their eyelashes.

A few were awake and waved at him, but Harry paid them no heed. His gaze was drawn to a big picture that hung directly behind Professor McGonagall's desk. It showed Professor Dumbledore, sitting on his throne-like, gilded chair. In contrary to the portraits of the other headmasters and headmistresses, his portrait was sound asleep.

'The picture has been finished and delivered a few days ago,' Professor McGonagall remarked, noticing where his gaze had wandered. 'It usually takes the portraits four to six weeks to adjust after the animation spell has been cast, before they can interact with their surroundings.'

'I see,' Harry replied. He had no idea whether to be disappointed that he couldn't talk to Professor Dumbledore's portrait, or relieved that this was not possible, considering his still conflicting feelings about the man he had not yet dared to analyse.

Professor McGonagall summoned a house elf and asked for tea and biscuits. While they waited for the refreshments, they made small talk about the lovely summer weather – it was one of the hottest and sunniest summers the British Islands had experienced in a long time – and Daphne and Harry's honeymoon.

Harry took the opportunity to watch the headmistress' office more closely. The shape of the circular room had not changed. The many bookcases were still there. Besides that, nothing remained of the times of Professor Dumbledore. The bookcases were still filled with books, but instead of overflowing from Professor Dumbledore's eclectic collection of books about all magical fields, the books were put up in orderly rows and alphabetically sorted. They were mostly about Transfiguration, Harry noticed, though there was also a section about the history of Scotland, and another about Wizarding Chess.

The big, overstuffed chairs Professor Dumbledore had offered to his visitors were also gone. They had been replaced by high backed chairs with cushions in the pattern of the McGonagall tartan. Gone were also the many silver trinkets Professor Dumbledore had kept on small tables beside his desk and throughout the office, as was Fawkes' perch beside the window. The latter gave Harry a sharp pain in his heart, he wondered if he would see the magnificent phoenix ever again in his life.

Instead of the perch, Professor McGonagall had installed a small seating area where they sat now. Without Professor Dumbledore's many knickknacks, the room seemed spacious and airy.

A small house elf, dressed in a white tea-towel toga with the Hogwarts crest embroidered on it, served tea.

'I'm happy you accepted the honour of becoming head girl and head boy, Daphne and Harry,' Professor McGonagall said while she poured the tea, and handed the platter with biscuits.

'Well, it is a great honour, professor, and we're thankful that you chose us. While you made an excellent choice with Daphne, I'm not so sure about me, though. After all, I never was one to care for rules,' Harry replied with a lopsided smile.

The corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth quirked up. 'Don't I know that,' she said with feeling, which made Daphne chuckle into her teacup. 'However, there would have been an outcry in the magical world, hadn't I made you head boy this year. Just like your father back in his days, I thought that was the only way to get you to obey the rules for a change.'

Harry and Daphne laughed out loud at that. By now, Harry had told his wife enough about the exploits of the Marauders that she could understand Professor McGonagall's private joke.

'Speaking about rules,' Professor McGonagall said, and summoned a thick pocketbook from her desk. She duplicated it with the Gemino Spell and placed one copy each in front of Harry and Daphne. 'The new Board of Governors hasn't been idle ever since it has been formed. These are the revised rules of conduct for Hogwarts students, and the punishment the students have to face by overstepping the borders. You'll be happy to discover that the possibility of abuse of the house point system by prefects and professors as well has been eliminated. The new rules of conduct state explicitly for which violations house points can be taken, and also limit the number of points that can be taken. On the other hand, students who feel they have been treated unfair, either by prefects or professors, can take their case to a panel consisting of the four head of houses and the headmaster or headmistress, who are required to investigate. Also, we are enforcing a no-tolerance-policy from now on. The prefects are demanded to keep a record of the points they have taken. Once a week there has to be a meeting of the prefects and the head girl and head boy, where these records are discussed. If one student stands out with a certain number of points taken from him or her, or a certain number of offences committed over and over again, the panel of prefects and head girl and head boy is free to hand out detentions. However, if the same student has to be punished that way a second time during one term, the case has to be handed over to the panel of the head of houses and the headmistress. We'll hand out more severe punishments, such as suspensions or even expulsions. Also, there are a number of violations of house rules that are considered so severe that they result in immediate suspension or even expulsion. The use of the term "mudblood" is such a case, but other forms of bullying will lead to the same consequences. Bullying in any form will no longer be tolerated at Hogwarts.' Her eyes sparkled resolutely. 'Can you follow me so far?'

Harry and Daphne nodded to that. Daphne cleared her throat. 'I suppose that applies to any form of bullying, no matter from which house?' she asked.

'Absolutely,' Professor McGonagall confirmed. 'The last thing we'll need is three houses letting the fourth house have it for the mistakes committed by adults. I plan on uniting the houses, not alienating them even more. For that reason, everyone in this school has to be more approachable. I suppose you've noticed that you needed no password when you came up to my office?'

Again, Harry and Daphne nodded.

'I've abolished the passwords for every professor's office and common room,' Professor McGonagall explained. 'Instead, they're warded by powerful runes to prevent pranks from outside. From now on, the entrances are public knowledge. A simple knock on the door should suffice.' She gave Harry and Daphne a small smile. 'I would also like the two of you to think about ways to unite the houses, instead of separating them even more after the war.'

Harry exchanged a look with his wife. As she nodded at him encouragingly, he cleared his throat. 'Actually, that's a point Daphne and I have discussed a lot during the last weeks since we got your letter, professor. We both think that the house system with their separate common rooms is diametrical to house unity. The students never dare to visit the common room of another house. I'm also pretty sure that none of the houses would tolerate students from another house in their common room. Unfortunately, there's no place in this huge castle where students from different houses can meet and spent time together.'

Professor McGonagall let out a frustrated sigh. 'I know. It was already like that when I was a student. What do you suggest to overcome that prejudice?'

'Forget the house common rooms,' Harry replied coolly, ignoring the shocked expression that appeared on Professor McGonagall's face. 'Turn them into extra study rooms for the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students. Merlin knows there're not enough places in the library to study, and there's no way you can study without interruption in the common rooms. Set up a common room for each year that is accessible for all four houses. After all, there are more than enough empty and dusty rooms around here that aren't used.'

'I think we should do more to welcome the first years,' Daphne continued. 'At the moment, they are left on their own devices to find their way around the castle and make friends with other students. There should be an orientation day for the first years to get to know the castle. Harry and I have made plans for a kind of scavenger hunt. Groups of four first year students from all of the houses are tasked to find certain items within the castle and on the grounds. Thus they'll have to travel all the main passages and will learn to find their way. It has also the added bonus that we can get students from the different houses together. Here are the plans we made.' She pulled a shrunken scroll of parchment out of the pockets of her robes, enlarged it, and handed it to Professor McGonagall.

Daphne and Harry waited silently while the headmistress scanned their plans. Daphne took Harry's hand, thus preventing him from fidgeting impatiently while Professor McGonagall took her time to examine their ideas.

He gave her a grateful side glance, while he wondered how she managed it to look that calm and composed, though he knew that she was as anxious as he to find out what Professor McGonagall thought about the plans they had spent so much time on to develop.

Finally, the headmistress lowered the scroll into her lap, and gave them one of her rare smiles. 'This is a fantastic idea! I'm behind it one hundred percent. Of course, you can't do it all by yourself. I'd suggest that you explain your idea to the other prefects during the train ride, and tell them what they have got to do.'

'Thank you, Headmistress McGonagall,' Daphne said as she took the scroll back from Professor McGonagall.

The headmistress regarded her with a faint smile. 'I guess that isn't all, is it, Daphne?'

A small smile flickered over Daphne's face as she shook her head. 'No, it isn't. After the dark times everyone has been through at this castle during the last year, we thought there should be some fun things to build up good memories. We came up with the idea to introduce social functions, beside the customary Hogsmeade weekends.'

'We thought of having something for the years one up to three, like an afternoon of board games, or obstacle broom races, and a dance once a month for the years four up to seven,' Harry picked up where his wife ended. 'Heaven knows we all need some fun and it would also be something that involves all the houses.'

The headmistress nodded thoughtfully. 'I can see your point. Actually, it is a good idea. Unfortunately, there's not much money left in the Hogwarts household for extra curricular affairs.'

'We won't need much money,' Harry objected. 'We planned on letting the students organise these extra curricular affairs. It'll give them a chance to apply the magic they have learned in class, and it will also be bonding time for students outside of their houses.'

Professor McGonagall's face lit up at that. 'In that case, I don't see any problems with the board of governors; I'll run your plans by them, Harry and Daphne, but I'm positive that they will be approved.'

She raised her wand and summoned a small badge from her desk. Handing it to Harry, she said, 'When we were sending out the Hogwarts letters, we were not sure if we were going to get the Quidditch pitch in order in time for the new school year. For a long time it looked as if we were forced to cancel Quidditch yet another year. I'm happy to tell you that we managed the impossible. Thus, I'd like you to become Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain once again, Harry.'

Harry looked at the golden badge with a red "C" on it, lost in thought. His time as Quidditch Captain had been one of the best times he had had at school. It was tempting to relive that time again, to be a carefree student once in his life…

He looked up, and exchanged a look with his wife. The sight of Daphne made him realise that he couldn't turn back time. He was forced to return back to school for his last year by law, but he had already outgrown the boundaries of the life of a student. He was a married man and head of his house. He had an orphaned godson to raise, a business to manage, and a seat on the Wizengamot. There was no way he would find the time to coach a Quidditch team on top of all of his other duties.

With a smile of regret, he handed the badge back to Professor McGonagall. 'I'm awfully sorry, professor, but with everything I have on my plate this year I won't be able to do the team justice.'

Professor McGonagall sighed as she took back the badge. 'I was afraid you'd say that. Who do you suggest as captain, Harry?'

Harry didn't have to think twice about that. 'What about Ron? He lives for the game, and he's the next senior member on the team after me, anyway.'

Professor McGonagall nodded to that, though she didn't look happy. 'You're not going to be the only married couple this year,' she then informed them. 'There are going to be at least three other couples. For that reason, we decided to reopen the corridor with apartments Hogwarts provides for married students, rather than to add rooms to the dormitories.'

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look of relief. They had been afraid that they would have been forced to live in separate dormitories. That would not only have been dangerous to their magic, but also something they dreaded, since by now they had become used to their intimacy.

Soon after that, Harry and Daphne took their leave. They spent the rest of the day studying the little pocketbook Professor McGonagall had given them. To their delight they found out that adult students were allowed to leave the castle to attend to their family business.

'That means we can still visit Teddy on the weekends,' Daphne beamed.

Harry rolled his eyes at her, but had to laugh. 'You're so wrapped around his tiny finger.'

'As if you fare any better any time he smiles at you,' Daphne replied. She shut the pocketbook with an audible noise and tossed it onto the desk. Then she got to her feet and stretched. 'Whatever; this looks as if it's going to be a very busy year for us. We'll probably be happy for every time we can get out of the castle and catch our breath.'

Harry gave an affirmative nod to that while he still studied the school rules.

Both of them had no idea how prophetic Daphne's words would turn out to be.

 **MY**

No thought of the busy year ahead of them was on their mind when they arrived at the Portkey spot for the guests of Ernie and Morag's wedding the next afternoon. Daphne had warned Harry ahead that it was going to be a big affair, and so they had both dressed in their finest. While he ambled towards the pavilion in the park of _Gaellun,_ the ancestral home of the McDougal family, his beautiful wife on his arm, he was glad that Daphne had insisted on getting him formal robes from Twilfitt and Tattings, though, of course, he never would admit that. However, she had made sure that he didn't stand out between the other guests. Well, at least not for the way he was dressed. After all the bad articles in both _Prophets_ about them, he wasn't surprised that they got a lot of curious stares.

Daphne handled them with the calm and cool composure he by now associated with her public face, as he called it. Pride of his beautiful wife welled up in him as he watched how she waved and nodded at the other guests, ignoring their curious stares. Quite a lot were relatives of hers, and ever so often she would stop and exchange a few words with an elderly cousin. When they finally reached the rows of white chairs that had been put up in front of the pavilion, Harry had lost count to how many people she had introduced him, and how many times he had bowed over the hand of a witch and kissed her knuckles.

The ushers showed them to their seats on the side of the bride. Since Daphne was a close relative of the bride, they were seated near the front, together with Isabella and Cyrus, and of course Tori.

It was the first time they met Daphne's parents after the disastrous end of the ball in honour of their own wedding two weeks ago. So much had happened since then that Harry had hardly noticed that Daphne's parents had not once asked how she was feeling after the attack on her. However, this was not the time to take them to task for their behaviour, so he suppressed the urge to glare at them, but instead bowed over Isabella's hand and exchanged a handshake with Cyrus.

Tori hugged first her sister, then him, and he realised that he had become attached to the bubbly girl in the short time since he knew her; she was the little sister he had never had.

Soon after their arrival the wedding began and a pale, nervous Ernie walked down the aisle with Justin Finch-Fletchley at his side. Then came the bridesmaids, Hannah Abbot and Morag's younger sister Abrianna with Susan Bones as the maid of honour.

The music signalled the arrival of the bride. Harry stood up with the rest of the guests as a beaming Morag walked down the aisle on her father's arm. When he had first met her, he had thought her a rather unremarkable girl. Today, he had to revise his judgement. Dressed in a delicate lace brides gown, there was something ethereal about the petite girl. Harry felt himself reminded of the pictures of fairies in his primer at primary school.

One look at Ernie told him that he obviously wholeheartedly agreed. The look he gave his young bride was full of love, happiness and pride. Justin touched him briefly on the elbow and murmured something to him. Probably he had to remind his best friend to breathe, Harry thought with an inward laugh as he watched Ernie holding out his hand to receive his bride from Gordon.

With a wistful smile, Gordon put Morag's hand in Ernie's, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and then sat down beside his wife.

The officiator began the ceremony. It was very short and straightforward, and soon he came to the important part.

'Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together in the estate of matrimonie, as your magicke demands? Wilt thou love her, coumforte her, honor, and kepe her in sickenesse and in health? And forsaking all other kepe thee only to her, so long as you both shall live?'

'I will,' came Ernie's answer. His voice sounded hoarse, but steadfast.

The officiator turned to Morag. 'Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded housebande, to live together in the estate of matrimonie, as your magicke demands? Wilt thou be his, obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and kepe him in sickenesse and in health? And forsaking all other kepe thee only to him, so long as you both shall live?'

'I will,' Morag answered, loud and clear, as soon as the officiator ended.

A soft ripple of laughter ran through the congregation.

The officiator then motioned Ernie and Morag to take each other's hand, and pulled out his wand.

Ernie's eyes were dark with emotion when he looked at his bride and said: 'I, Ernest, take thee, Morag, to my wedded wife, to have and to holde from this day forwarde, for better, for wurse, for richer, for poorer, in sickenes and in health, to love and to cherishe, til death us departe: and thereto I give thee my trouth and my magicke.'

The officiator circled his wand around their joined hands.

Harry felt goosebumps running down his spine; the vows sounded oddly familiar to him.

When it was Morag's turn to say her vows, she had such a radiant look of love and trust on her face that Harry felt a lump form in his throat. Beside him, he heard a soft sniffle. Turning his head, he saw how Daphne surreptitiously wiped a tear from her eye. Then she looked up to him. The breath caught in Harry's throat. The light in her eyes was as radiant as the look on Morag's face. Without realising it, he took Daphne's hand, and she leaned against him.

'I, Morag, take thee, Ernest, to my wedded housebande, to have and holde from this day forwarde, for better, for wurse, for richer, for poorer, in sickenes and in health, to be yours, to love and to cherishe, to obey and to serve, til death us departe: and thereto I give thee my trouth and my magicke.'

Once more, the officiator circled Ernie and Morag's joined hands with his wand. He than began to chant a long and complicated Latin spell. Then he said, 'Ye have declared your consent in the face of magicke. May magicke strengthen your consent and fill ye both with its blessings.' For a last time, he circled their joined hands with his wand. The moment he took his wand away, a bright light erupted, engulfing Ernie and Morag, and obscuring them from the sight of the congregation.

By now, Harry was sure that these were exactly the vows he and Daphne had exchanged, though he still had next to no memory of the actual event. He remembered the moment Kreacher informed him about their marriage. _Kreacher has never seen such a bright aura as in the moment master and mistress exchanged their vows._ A sudden epiphany overcame him. Was the brightness of the light any indication of the love the couple shared? But that would mean... Again, he looked down at his wife. Their eyes met, and as on the day of their wedding ball, he had the distinct feeling that something was shifting between them.

Loud cheers and whistles erupted from the assembled family and friends, startling Harry and Daphne back into reality. As the light faded away, everyone started clapping.

A beaming Ernie bent down to kiss his wife, and Morag slung both arms around his neck, responding enthusiastically. Ernie then took his wife by the hand, and together the happy couple walked down the aisle, followed by their family and friends.

Harry and Daphne had no chance to talk while they waited in the reception line until it was their turn to congratulate the newlyweds. After that, they were ushered to the ballroom of _Gaellun_ , where a festive dinner, and after that the wedding ball, would take place. They found themselves at a small, round table they shared with Lisa and Terry and Luna and Dean.

'I can't believe that Morag consented to these ancient vows,' Lisa exclaimed as soon as she sat down.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a surreptitious look. 'What do you mean by that?' Harry asked.

Lisa fluttered her hand. 'You've heard it! Morag just bound her life and her magic to Ernie. There's no way back from that.'

'Yeah, but if I've heard right, Ernie did just the same,' her fiancé interrupted what rapidly seemed to become a passionate rant.

'Not to the same extend,' Lisa contradicted. 'Morag practically became his property with these vows. She made them on her magic! Heaven knows what will happen if she ever breaks them.' She looked genuinely upset for her friend.

'Magic always demands a price, but will also give you back a lot in return,' Luna's serene voice chimed in.

Lisa's head jerked up. 'What does that mean?'

Luna gave her an angelic smile. 'You'll see that Morag and Ernie won't find it difficult to keep their vows. They have a lot at stake, but magic will help them to focus on their feelings for each other. That is what these magical vows were created for. If you accept them with all of your heart, you'll find great happiness.'

The look on Lisa's face betrayed that she didn't believe her eccentric housemate. 'If you say so,' she relented.

'Just you wait and see,' Luna smiled, but she looked at Harry and Daphne while she said the words.

The young couple was rather silent through dinner. Harry couldn't wait to talk to his wife. From the way Daphne shifted in her seat and surreptitiously glanced at him ever so often, he knew that she was as impatient to get away from the wedding ball and talk to him as he was to talk to her.

The first chance to exchange a few private words came when the dancing started. However, when he held his wife in his arms and steered her over the dancefloor in a waltz, the right words seemed to fail him.

Daphne did nothing to make it easier on him. She just smiled at him, with a light in her eyes that made him want to kiss her senseless just there and then. Of course, such a behaviour was out of the question. Instead, he asked: 'Do you regret that you didn't have a traditional wedding like this?'

Daphne shook her head. 'Not at all! You know that a traditional would have meant that I had to marry Nott. You've heard my father: there's no way he would've given his consent to a marriage between us. Thank you, but I'm absolutely happy with the way we got married.' With a wink, she added, 'Though I don't remember much of it.'

He laughed, and pulled her as close towards him as good manners allowed, knowing that in spite of Ernie and Morag's big day a lot of curious eyes watched every step they made.

There wasn't much opportunity for them to talk after that. Tori claimed a dance with him, and so did Isabella. After Lisa, Luna and Hannah approached him, too, Harry had the feeling that they all were in a conspiracy to keep him away from his wife.

Finally, came the moment for Morag to throw her bridal bouquet, and then to leave with Ernie on their honeymoon. He watched and laughed with the other guests as Hannah and Susan fought to catch the bouquet. Hannah won and cast a radiant smile to a blushing Neville.

'It seems we'll be attending many weddings in the next couple of years,' Daphne chuckled and linked arms with him. 'Shall we say our thanks and farewells to Uncle Gordon and Aunt Mary?'

He nodded, and they joined the queue of guests that had formed to bide their good byes to their hosts.

Fifteen minutes later Harry had apparated them back to _The Hideaway._ He at once turned around to his wife and grabbed her hand. 'We have to talk,' he stated.

'That we have,' Daphne agreed.

It was a warm night in late August, so they walked in silent agreement to the bench that overlooked the moonlit bay.

'We haven't talked about us for a rather long time,' he began after they had settled down.

'That's true,' Daphne replied, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Her put an arm around her to give her more room. 'These vows Ernie and Morag exchanged,' he began haltingly. 'They sounded so familiar. Are they the same vows we exchanged over the anvil?'

'I think so,' Daphne replied, while she snuggled up to him. 'Though my memory of that event is hazy, I have to confess.'

They lapsed into silence. Harry leaned his head on Daphne's. 'Do you think Luna's right? That the vows we exchanged help us to make our marriage work? After all, though we talked about it once, we never made the contractual additions that will give you back your freedom.'

She raised her head and looked at him. 'That's because it isn't important to me anymore, Harry. The Potter house charter gives me a lot of freedom. Besides that, I trust you never to abuse the power our vows gave you over me.'

Harry looked down at his wife. He could see it in her eyes that she meant what she said. They had an expression of absolute trust that made him feel humble and small. But there was also something else in her expression that made his heart race.

He took a deep breath, gathering all his Gryffindor courage. 'We've become best friends, haven't we?'

Daphne nodded to that, her gaze never leaving his face.

With another deep breath, he put both arms around her and pulled her close. 'Tell me, Daphne, is it just wishful thinking on my part, or are we on the brink to something more?'

A radiant smile crossed her features that made Harry's breath catch in his throat. 'It's not wishful thinking, Harry; I think I'm beginning to fall in love with you.' She blushed deeply at these words, but held his gaze steadily.

Harry's heart missed a beat, then bumped a drumroll. A huge smile split his face into halves. 'Brilliant! I think I'm beginning to fall in love with you, too.'

Daphne flung her arm around his neck, and their lips met. Their kiss was long and full of promise. When they stopped, their foreheads still touching, they smiled at each other, goofily.

Harry was the first to sober. 'Mind you, Daphne, I'm lousy at this. You know how I grew up. I have no idea how to love someone, so it's very likely I'll mess up at one point. I promise not to fight whatever there is between us.'

She raised her hand and gently caressed his cheek. 'You know that my home wasn't much better than yours, Harry. My parent's example certainly never taught me how to lead a happy marriage. Let's just take things as they come, and see where it'll lead us.'

'Good idea,' he agreed, and rested his head on the top of hers. They sat like that for a long time, softly whispering to each other, until they finally walked into the house arm in arm.

When Harry made love to his wife that night, sweet and slow, they both knew that for the first time in their marriage the act meant more to them than just to quench their desire. They fell asleep, holding each other.

 **MY**

Harry walked down to breakfast, whistling, and with a spring in his step.

'My, aren't we chipper this morning?' Daphne greeted him from the breakfast table, a twinkle in her eyes.

He stepped behind her and took her in his arms. 'That's only because of the excellent company I keep,' he quipped, and kissed her.

'Flatterer,' she smiled, but leaned against him with a content purr.

He let go off her, but not before giving her another kiss, and slipped into his seat. 'Anything on our agenda for today?' he asked while he grabbed his breakfast.

Daphne shook her head. 'No, we have the day all to ourselves.'

'That sounds too good to be true,' Harry replied, and picked up his fork.

'We deserve it after last week, don't you think so?' Daphne asked.

He only nodded in reply, already occupied with the Quidditch results from Saturday.

His wife rolled her eyes at him, but pulled the main section of the _Sunday Prophet_ towards her. Skimming the newspaper, she remarked: 'Morag and Ernie's wedding got a lot of coverage.'

Harry looked up from the sports section. 'I expected that after your uncle told us how he and Mr Macmillan deal with the press. At least this event was all about Morag and Ernie, so they won't be interested in us.'

'You wish!' his wife snorted. _'The Chosen One and his alleged wife seemed to have put aside their marriage problems to attend the wedding of the supposedly former Miss Greengrass' cousin, albeit the alleged spouses were hardly seen with each other during the ball. The Saviour of the Light was seen dancing with quite a number of other women, but hardly ever with his alleged wife,'_ she read aloud from the article.

Harry shook his head. 'Not by my own choice,' he protested. 'If I had my way, I would've danced each dance with you, kitty.'

'Good answer,' Daphne chuckled, but Harry could see a small trace of worry in her eyes.

He got up and took her in his arms. 'Stop worrying about these damned newspapers, kitty. They've already cost us enough nerves lately. Let's do something fun today, just for the two of us.'

'I'd like that,' she replied, and leaned back in his arms.

They were still discussing the merits of a flight on their brooms along the Cornish coast – of course under Invisibility Charms because of the many tourists – over a visit in one of the many gardens Cornwall boasted, when the buzzing of the Banishing Box interrupted them.

'I'll get it,' Daphne said, and slid down from Harry's lap where she had somehow ended during their discussion. She returned into the kitchen with a single envelope in her hands. Her face seemed calm, but Harry noticed a wary expression in her eyes, though she hid it well.

When she handed him the envelope, he understood her apprehension. The letter was from Hermione. He had completely blocked out the fact that his best friends would return today. Never before in his life had he been less enthusiastic to receive a letter from one of his best friends, Harry thought as he turned the letter in his hands.

'Don't you want to open it?' Daphne asked.

Instead of returning into his lap, she had sat down beside him. As always, she gave him space in a difficult situation, and he acknowledged her thoughtfulness with a soft smile.

'To be honest, no, but I guess it can't be helped,' he replied, and opened the letter.

 _Harry,_

 _At least you got my last letter. I'm glad Greengrass didn't keep it from you. Thank you for writing back and trying to reassure us._

 _As you see, we are back in England, and more worried about you than ever. The newspaper articles Molly collected for us about your marriage are disturbing, to say the least. You will be happy to know that I found authoritative precedent that will enable you to dissolve your disastrous marriage within no time._

 _Meet us tomorrow, provided that Greengrass lets you._

 _Don't worry, Harry, we will help you out of this. You know that Ron and I always will have your back._

 _Your friend_

 _Hermione_

Harry hardly suppressed an expletive as he handed the letter to Daphne.

Her calm face didn't give away her thoughts while she read. 'She more or less ordered you to meet her tomorrow,' she remarked, looking up from the letter after she had finished reading it.

'Yeah; and I'm very tempted to write her back and tell her to shove it,' Harry fumed, and messed up his hair with both hands.

'That would only mean to put off the inevitable,' his wife remarked, always the practical Slytherin. 'You'd better talk to them and explain to them how it came that we got married.'

'You're right,' he admitted. 'Though, judging by this letter I somehow doubt they will listen to anything I'll tell them. It seems to me that they've already made up their minds about you and our marriage. Hermione will have quite the nasty surprise tomorrow when we tell her where she can stick her authoritative precedence.'

'We?' Daphne replied, sounding surprised.

'Of course, we! The sooner Ron and Hermione learn that we come as a package, the better.'

His wife gave him a blinding smile. 'Thank you for including me, Harry, though I doubt your friends will be happy about that.'

'I'm not going to hide you, neither am I ashamed of our marriage,' Harry told her adamantly. 'Remember, we agreed right from the beginning that we'll be strong as long as we are united. That does not only pertain to the press, but also to Ron and Hermione; I won't let them badmouth you!'

Daphne gave him a worried look. 'You know that this can lead to a serious rift between you and your best friends, Harry?'

He took her hand in his, and pulled her onto his lap. 'Only if Ron and Hermione let it come that far, and don't change their attitude towards you. No, don't give me that worried look, love. We're married, and as my wife you have an important place in my life. Ron and Hermione will have to accept that, whether they like it or not.'


	5. Chapter 5

Harry felt nervous when he entered the Needy Kumquat the next evening. Ron and Hermione were already waiting. Ironically enough, they had chosen the small table in the corner at which Harry and Daphne had sat that fateful night they got drunk together. With a deep breath Harry grabbed Daphne's hand. Together, they threaded their way through the rows of tables to where his friends sat side by side, watching the entrance. While Hermione's face stayed neutral as she saw Daphne and him, Ron regarded their approach with a deep scowl on his face. His earlobes were as red as a beacon, a sure sign that an explosion was imminent. Harry decided to set up a silent and wandless Privacy Charm as soon as they reached the table, and added a Notice-Me-Not Charm for good measure. His precaution was well grounded.

'What's she doing here?' Ron spat instead of a greeting. Though Hermione said nothing, she also frowned at Daphne.

Harry suppressed the urge to turn on the spot and leave. Instead, he employed the calming exercises Daphne had shown him for situations like this. 'Hermione, Ron, I'm also happy to see you,' he said, ignoring Ron's outburst, while he gave Hermione a brief hug and Ron a slap on the back. He then held out a chair for his wife. She sat down with a polite greeting to his friends, who both still scowled at her. Harry noticed that Hermione and Ron had not yet made an order. 'What can I get you?' he asked. As he expected, that caught them both off guard.

'Oh,' Ron turned his glare from Daphne. 'A butterbeer, mate.'

Harry suppressed a laugh. 'That's probably hard to get in a Muggle pub. Will a coke do?'

'Whatever,' Ron replied with a wave of his hand, and scowled again at Daphne.

Hermione asked for a coke, and gave Ron a small push. 'Why don't you help Harry getting the drinks, while Greengrass and I enjoy some girl talk?' The smile on her face was as false as the cheerfulness in her voice.

The young men left the table and went to the bar. While he waited for their orders, Harry watched Daphne and Hermione from the corner of his eye. As he had expected, Hermione was far from wanting to have a girl talk with Daphne. Instead, she glared at his wife, while her fingers silently, but quickly stripped down a beer mat into small pieces. Daphne's back was turned to him and betrayed no sign of the worry and uneasiness he knew she felt.

The young men returned to the table and put the glasses down. Harry slipped into his seat and raised his coke. 'Cheers!'

The others mumbled a polite reply.

'What's she doing here?' Ron asked aggressively as soon as he put down his glass.

'She has a name, Ron, and it would be the polite thing to use it. Besides that, you know, Daphne and I are married, so you'd better get used to her,' Harry replied with a calmness he was far from feeling. Daphne gave him a small smile and took his hand.

Unfortunately, that set off his friend. 'Your wife, my arse!' he exploded. 'She bound you by Love Potions!'

Harry inwardly counted to ten. He looked at Hermione. She had kept unusual quiet until now, but the expression on her face told him that she agreed with every word Ron had said.

'What gives you that idea?' he asked, somehow managing to keep the anger that bubbled up in him at bay. He felt Daphne squeeze his hand and gave her a quick smile of thanks. It was amazing how well she could read him after only seven weeks together.

Hermione pulled out a thick wad of paper from her by now rather threadbare beaded bag, and put them on the table in front of her.

A quick glance told Harry that they were newspaper clippings, obviously of the articles that had been printed about Daphne and him ever since they announced their marriage. He couldn't help the snort that escaped him. 'Don't tell me that you of all people believe the dung Skeeter writes, Hermione!'

The bushy-headed witch stiffened. 'I have to remind you, Harry, that she did an excellent job sticking to the truth with the interview she had with you.'

Harry laughed out loud. 'Yeah, because you blackmailed her. It was her chance to get back into business. Ever since then, she's gone back to her old, money-making ways.'

Hermione and Ron both looked scandalised. 'You shouldn't mention our secrets in front of her, mate,' Ron spluttered.

Harry felt his forced calm quickly wearing off. 'For a last time, Ron, her name is Daphne. She's my wife, and she knows and keeps my secrets, just as I know and keep hers; I won't tolerate you bad mouthing her,' he said, still in a calm tone, though he couldn't help the annoyance he felt sip into his voice.

The glance his friends shared, following his mild outburst, was only too familiar to Harry. It was the kind of glance they had shared after his outbursts during their fifth year, or after his rants about Malfoy during their sixth year, or even during the Horcrux hunt when they made no progress. It indicated that they thought him unreasonable, but didn't want to provoke his full wrath. However, that glance also told him that they had made up their minds, and that he wouldn't be able to sway their opinion.

For the first time since they had become friends, Harry asked himself why he put up with them. Admittedly, they had stuck with him through situations no one of their age should have suffered through, but they also didn't allow him any common sense.

Ron's next words proved him to be true. 'She's a Slytherin, mate! You can't tell her anything,' he almost screamed.

That was enough. Harry moved to get up, but he was held back by Daphne.

'Don't, Harry. You'll regret it later.' Daphne said.

He deflated under her calm, encouraging gaze. Dropping back into his seat, he raised their entwined hands and kissed her knuckles. 'Thanks, Daphne,' he mouthed. Then he turned back to his friends, who eyed the exchange between him and his wife with distrust.

'Let's start this all over again, but in a civilised manner, and without any outbursts from you, Ron.' He threw his friend a long, steady gaze, that conveyed a lot of the annoyance - and disappointment - he felt at his behaviour. Ron's face turned a deep shade of red. He opened his mouth, and Harry prepared himself for one of Ron's trademark and especially hurtful remarks, when his friend suddenly faltered under his stare and nodded.

'Good. You have voiced your surprise about my marriage. I owe that you are entitled to feel that way, since nothing pointed into that direction when we parted at the end of May.'

Ron shifted in his seat, and looked as if he would love to throw in a disparaging comment, but was held back by Hermione, who put a hand on his arm. Her stare had not once left Daphne since they had entered the pub. There was something in the depth of her eyes Harry hadn't seen ever before, and couldn't decipher. However, it worried him.

'You may not have realised it back then, but Ginny and I already had our problems. I won't give you details, because that's something between her and me, but our relationship quickly deteriorated after you had left for Australia, until I saw no other way than to end it.' He took a sip of coke to fortify himself. 'I have a good idea of what Ginny told you about the state of our relationship on the day I left the Burrow. In contrary of what she told you, I have not once thought of proposing to her, and I was never as far from that as on that very day.'

Ron and Hermione shared another glance that betrayed their surprise about his revelations.

Ignoring their incredulity, he went on. 'I left the _Burrow_ that day, since the break-up made things awkward and I moved to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher worked hard to make the house habitable, and I went out to eat that night, because I didn't want him to cook on top of all that.'

As he had expected, Hermione nodded her head in approval of that sentiment. Suppressing a smile about her predictable reaction, he continued his story. 'I ended in this pub, where I met Daphne. We began to talk, and soon realised that there was a strong attraction between us. Well, you know the rest.' He leaned back in his chair and waited for the outburst he knew that was going to come.

Hermione was the first to recover. 'Harry James Potter! Do you really expect us to buy that load of dung?' she huffed. 'Even though I know that you usually jump into new adventures without giving a thought of the consequences, I don't believe you eloped with Greengrass just on the spur of a moment. There must be more behind this story.' She narrowed her eyes and glared at Daphne. 'What did you give him, Greengrass?'

Harry decided to step in before things would become ugly. 'She didn't give me anything, though I have to admit that a couple of shots were involved in our decision,' he told her with a straight face.

'More likely about a dozen shots each,' Daphne threw in, her face as straight as Harry's.

They didn't dare look at each other while they waited for Hermione's reaction to that revelation.

She didn't disappoint them. A deep scowl appeared on her face. 'Harry, how could you -' she began, when her expression suddenly changed, and the dark scowl made place for a look of sheer delight. 'Actually, that's brilliant! You had no idea what you were doing, Harry. This gives you the perfect excuse to annul your marriage.'

Harry hardly suppressed a snort. That was exactly the reaction he had predicted. 'I hate to disappoint you, Hermione, but I knew what I was doing, and so was Daphne.' He exchanged a small smile with his wife, who nodded in agreement. 'Besides that, who said I want to annul my marriage?' He raised his chin challengingly.

'But...but…!' Hermione spluttered. 'You can't be serious!'

'No, last time I checked I was Harry,' he deadpanned. He felt how Daphne shook with silent laughter, and winked at her.

Hermione gave a hiss that reminded him of Crookshanks. 'Don't play dumb with me, Harry! You're the hero of the wizarding world; you can't associate with a Pureblood!'

He raised his eyebrows at her. 'Is that so? Then why, pray tell, are you still with Ron?'

'That's completely different,' she shot back.

'I fail to see the difference,' Harry countered.

'The Weasleys never supported the Pureblood agenda,' Ron exclaimed. He sounded offended.

'Neither did House Greengrass,' Harry retorted.

'She was in Slytherin, mate,' Ron said, as if that would contradict Harry's statement. Judging by the way he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he obviously thought it did.

Harry shook his head at him. 'The Hat sorts us because of certain character traits we have. It usually picks out your most prominent traits, but doesn't insist on placing you according to them, but puts you into another house if you ask for that. The most prominent character traits of Slytherins are ambition and cunning. Daphne is very ambitious, and the Hat placed her into Slytherin for that. However, I also know that she's loyal and caring, and would have made a good Hufflepuff because of that. Sometimes she shows a rather reckless and brave streak, which would fit her right into Gryffindor. Lastly, she belongs to the top students in our year, which would qualify her for Ravenclaw. No, Ron, it's not the house we're in that makes us evil, but the choices we make. So, tell me again, Ron and Hermione, why I shouldn't be married to Daphne?'

They didn't answer, but exchanged another of these looks that indicated that he behaved very unreasonable.

Hermione tried another angle. 'What happened to you, Harry? I never knew you to be this composed and sure of yourself. You even look differently, with the new and obviously expensive clothes you wear. Did Greengrass talk you into that?' The way she voiced her question made it sound as if his change was bad, and Daphne had somehow done something dishonourable.

'Nothing happened to me, except that Voldemort is dead and the threat that loomed over me for many years is gone, Hermione. Getting your adrenaline levels back to normal does a lot for your composure, as finishing off the Dark Lord of your time does for your self-esteem. Though, I have to admit you're right. About one of the first things Daphne did when we got married was making me shop for new clothes.' He gave his wife a soft smile, remembering their first shopping trip together.

The bushy-haired witch swooped down on that tidbit like a hen on a grain of corn. 'You shouldn't be that cocky, Harry; it is unbecoming and you shouldn't let Greengrass talk you into squandering your money,' she reprimanded him.

Harry heard a strange noise from his wife, as if she was silently exploding.

'You're unbelievable, Granger,' Daphne fumed. 'I thought you were Harry's best friend? Then you should be happy that he's finally rid of the strain that was put on him, and becoming the man he was meant to be. A good friend, as you claim to be one, should have given him a hint about his clothes years ago, and prevented him from a lot of the ridicule he had to endure because of that. Really, you two are appalling. You claim to be his best friends, but you treat him worse than a toddler, forever criticising him and doubting his decisions. The way you behave today you're driving him away!'

Ron and Hermione stared at her, agape.

Harry leaned over to his wife and kissed her. 'Thank you, love,' he whispered in her ear. As a response, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Hermione regarded them with an unfathomable expression in her eyes. 'So, you got married to Greengrass because you were drunk, but refuse to end that marriage,' she resumed their conversation. 'Well, there's nothing we can do about that. You've made your bed, Harry, and you know where to find us when you're in trouble.'

Ron murmured something that was obviously meant as an agreement to Hermione's words.

Harry waited, looking at his friends, but it soon became obvious that neither he nor Daphne were going to get an apology for their behaviour. Instead, Hermione changed the topic.

'Ron and I are both prefects for seventh year. I wonder who Professor McGonagall chose for head boy and head girl.' She gave him an expectant look.

Harry decided to let it go, and to satisfy her curiosity. 'Actually, Professor McGonagall made me head boy. She said there would've been a public outcry had she decided otherwise.'

'She also mentioned that she did it to keep you in line for once,' Daphne reminded him with a chuckle.

'There's that too,' Harry grinned in agreement.

That news elicited a broad smile from Hermione.

Ron, however, complained, 'Who cares about the head boy position? The Quidditch Captain is much more important. You're going to be our captain again, aren't you, mate?'

A small gleam of jealousy in his friend's eyes told Harry that Ron wasn't as indifferent towards being head boy as he claimed to be. His best friend actually blanched when he shook his head. 'Professor McGonagall offered the badge to me, but I had to decline.'

'You're taking the mickey, mate,' Ron protested.

Again, Harry shook his head. 'I'm not, Ron. As it is, I have too much on my plate already. Being head boy will be a tough job this year, since the board of governors has introduced new rules that mean a lot of work. I have inherited Sirius' seat on the Wizengamot, and I'll have to attend to meetings twice a month. Also, Andy will need my support in raising Teddy.'

The small gleam of jealousy in Ron's eyes became more pronounced, but he didn't comment on Harry's other commitments. 'You're still playing seeker, aren't you, mate?' he asked.

'I'll try,' Harry answered. 'Though I can't promise to be there for every training and every match. I've become too big and too heavy for school Quidditch, anyway. Maybe we should look for a reserve seeker this year who can step in when I have other obligations to fulfill.'

While Ron let out a breath of relief, and leaned back to consider Harry's suggestion, Hermione predictably was more interested with Harry's new responsibility as a member of the Wizengamot, and bombarded him with a barrage of questions, of which Harry hardly could answer any. She looked disappointed at his ignorance, but the light in her eyes told him that she probably would throw herself into researching the topic as soon as she and Ron had returned to the _Burrow_.

Since the topics Quidditch and Wizengamot had been exhausted, Hermione once again changed the topic. 'I wonder who became head girl this year,' she mused.

Daphne cleared her throat. 'That would be me.'

'You?' Ron and Hermione said unison. They both glared at her, disbelieving and angry.

Ron's ears turned a dangerous shade of red. 'You stole that honour from Hermione,' he accused her. 'It should have been her; she was always the top student of our year, not to mention that she helped to bring Voldemort down, and end the war. You've done nothing, so why did you become head girl? Did your father buy you into the job, like Malfoy bought his way into the Quidditch team?'

Hermione kept silent, but the way she glared at Daphne indicated that she agreed with Ron's words.

Again, Harry decided to step in before things became ugly. 'Professor McGonagall told us that she made a political statement when she chose Daphne. She knew that we're married, and wanted to set an example that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor can work well together.' He saw no need in telling Hermione that Professor McGonagall had also taken into account that Daphne's academical performance was marginally better, and that she was expected to look out for the youngest students of her house. Hermione probably knew that, anyway. His intervention prevented another fight, though he could see that his friends were not happy with Professor McGonagall's decision.

A short emotion flickered up in Hermione's eyes that Harry couldn't decipher, and the next moment it was gone, and his friend looked calm and collected. 'Well, I suppose if you look at it from the headmistress' point of view, that decision actually makes sense.'

'It's not fair,' Ron grumbled under his breath.

'Fair is where they judge pigs, Ron,' Harry reprimanded his friend, which shut him up.

An uncomfortable silence ensued among the young people, that was finally broken by Hermione.

'I think we should be going back to the _Burrow_ , or Molly will be worried. She frets easily these days,' she said, rising from her chair, and giving Ron a small push to follow her example. 'By the way, Harry, she told us to invite you to dinner for tomorrow.'

'Does this invitation include my wife?' Harry asked back, politely getting up to tell his friends goodbye.

Ron and Hermione exchanged an uneasy glance.

'I take that as a no,' Harry remarked. 'In this case, tell Mrs Weasley I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline.'

Hermione looked as if she was going to protest his decision, but the look he gave her made her reconsider.

Daphne and Harry waited until the pair had left the pub, and then slowly made their way back home. The moment they appeared in front of _The Hideaway_ , Harry's shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. 'I'm glad this is over. Sorry they were that unreasonable, Daphne.'

She took his hand and guided him towards the coastal path for a short stroll to clear their heads. 'That was to be expected, wasn't it? Look at it from their point of view, Harry. You've been best friends since your first year, and as close as siblings. Together, you banished the greatest threat to our society there ever was. Then your two best friends got together, and you were with your best friends little sister. I bet they expected you four to live happily ever after as one big, happy family, and to take over the Ministry one day; of course under Granger's guidance, because she's always done the thinking for you. You dump the little sister, marry a girl from the wrong side of the town, so to speak, and begin to act independent from Granger. No, you really can't blame them, or rather Granger, for being a trifle vexed with you, love.'

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. 'Unfortunately, you've summed it up very accurately, Daphne. Though, I can't blame Hermione for wanting to make a change in our society. She's suffered a lot under the prejudices against Muggleborns, you know.'

'I don't blame her, either. In fact, her goals are applaudable. I only pointed out that she's very ambitious, and wants to use her closeness to you as a means to further her own career, though there is no doubt about it that she'll get far on her own merits. However, your friendship will give her the extra kick that's needed to get to the top. That ambition isn't a bad thing, per se, but she would be a much nicer person if she owned up to it, instead of being so damned self-righteous.' She kicked at a pebble in frustration.

'You don't like her, do you?' Harry asked softly.

Daphne sighed. 'We've always been academical rivals. Granger doesn't like to be beaten, and she didn't take it kindly that I beat her on the O.W.L.s exams, even if by one point only. However, this goes deeper.' She stopped and turned around to face him. 'Why didn't you tell me that you and Granger have been lovers, Harry?'

Harry blanched. 'What…! Why… How…' he spluttered.

Daphne waited patiently until he had collected himself; her gaze didn't betray what she felt.

'Who told you that?' he finally managed to croak out.

'Nobody, Harry. It became clear to me when I observed Granger today. She glowered at me the whole time, and acted as if I'd taken something that belonged to her; I had already suspected something like that before.' She pushed back a strand of hair the wind had blown in her face. 'Do you remember the day after the ball, when we had that talk about Granger? You said you had a bad feeling about involving Hermione in the research of the possibilities of the blood analysis, and then suddenly stopped talking. Instead, you looked out onto the sea, as if you remembered something. That was the first hint I got that there was more between you and Granger than just friendship. Her behaviour today confirmed my suspicion.'

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'I owe you an explanation.'

Daphne shook her head. 'You don't, Harry. It happened before we got married, so it's not my business. However, I have the right to know if you still have feelings for her, haven't I?'

'That you have,' he conceded. 'To answer that question first: no, I don't. I think I never had, at least not that kind of feelings.' He let out an embarrassed laugh. 'Look, Daphne, this isn't something I'm proud of. I suppose it's better I'll tell you the whole story. I don't want you to worry about Hermione being a threat to what we have.'

He took her hand and guided her to a depression near the path that was protected from the wind by a few bushes that grew around it. They sat down in the grass, facing each other.

'It happened after Christmas, when we were still on the quest to find a way to destroy Voldemort,' he began. He chose his words carefully, since he still hadn't told Daphne about the Horcruxes. 'Ron had left us in autumn.'

Daphne looked surprised at that revelation. He never had mentioned that detail in the official reports about their journey.

'I got severely hurt on Christmas. Hermione saved my life, and nourished me back to health. It was a desperate time: it was cold, and we had barely any food, and we made no progress in our quest. One night, when I was feeling better, we started to dance together. It began as a way to keep us warm, you know. We laughed and had fun for the first time in months. Then we looked at each other. I have no idea how it happened, but suddenly we kissed, and then we somehow couldn't stop, and next thing…' He broke off, and turned beet red.

'Thank you, but I can imagine what happened next, so, please, spare me the sordid details.' She gave him an indulgent, close-lipped smile. 'After all, teenage boys are supposed to think with their dicks. I guess the great Harry Potter doesn't fare any better in that regard.'

'Well, you're in the best position to know that,' he remarked dryly.

That had her chuckle.

Harry heaved a sigh, and continued his confession. 'It was awful; I suppose first times are like that. Hermione cried afterwards, and I apologised to her over and over again. But the next night she slipped into my bed, and it happened again.' He didn't elaborate any further, but looked onto the sea, lost in his memories.

'What happened after that?' Daphne finally brought him back to the here and now with her soft question.

'Ron returned the night after that,' he told her with a sigh. 'He started to woo Hermione, and she obviously liked it, though she gave him the cold shoulder at first. They got closer after we'd escaped from Malfoy manor, and finally kissed on the day of the battle in the Room of Requirement. They've been joined at the hips ever since then.' He smiled softly at those memories.

Daphne's eyes grew wide when he mentioned their escape from Malfoy manor, once more reminding him that it was time to tell her more about his year on the run. She had a right to know, now that they were growing closer. That was, if she still wanted to have him after what he had just told her, Harry thought with an unhappy sigh. He gave his wife an uneasy glance.

'Have you ever talked to Granger about what happened between you, Harry?' she asked softly.

He shook his head. 'No, I was too embarrassed for that. I knew right from the beginning that it had been a mistake. I don't feel for Hermione like that, and yet I let it happen again. Then Ron returned, and he was always around, and there never was the opportunity to talk.' He took her hands in his, and looked her in the eyes. 'I never felt for Hermione what I feel for you, Daphne. I'm ashamed to say it, but she was what Seamus used to call a good opportunity for an unexpected shag. Unfortunately, she detested it.'

'And yet she crawled into your bed for another one?' Daphne exclaimed. 'Though, it doesn't surprise me. Granger always wants to be in control. I guess, it's impossible for her to let go off that control and lose herself enough to really enjoy the act.'

'Ew, too much information a guy doesn't want to know, Daphne.'

She laughed at that, but soon returned to their original topic. 'Thank you for being that open with me, love.' She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. 'As I said, it happened before we get married, so I have no right to be jealous. I believe you when you say you don't have amorous feelings for her anymore. Though, I doubt the same can be said for her.'

'But she's with Ron,' he protested.

'Is she? Their body language today certainly didn't give away that they're an item. Maybe they broke up during their journey to Australia, and Granger expected to get back with you?'

That gave him pause. Then he said, 'Well, it's not going to happen, isn't it? I'm married to you, and I have no desire to change that.' He smiled at her, tenderly. 'Just the contrary, I'm absolutely happy with the way things are.'

She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his smile. 'Right answer, husband,' she whispered, and kissed him.

 **MY**

'It seems as if we're spending all of our time in a lawyer's office,' Daphne complained the next morning, when they were on their way to Percy. He had asked them to meet in his office to discuss how to deal with those who refused to apologise for having sent them a Howler.

'You were the one who suggested this course of action,' Harry reminded his wife.

She pouted while she hurried down Diagon Alley beside him. 'Yeah, and it was a dumb idea since it has shown next to no results. We're still getting plenty of these darned things whenever Skeeter writes a new article.'

Harry gave her an amazed side glace. He had never seen her pout before, but she surely looked adorable when she did. 'Maybe we've gone about it all wrong,' he mused, and held the door to Percy's office open for her.

'What do you mean by that?' she asked, but was interrupted by Percy, who came out of his office to greet them. He ushered them into the conference room. A sizable stack of rolls of parchment was already sitting on the table.

'These are the files of those who didn't react to your demand of an apology,' he told them when they sat down.

'That seem to be quite a lot,' Harry replied, eying the stack with apprehension.

'About twenty-five percent,' Percy nodded. 'Though, I'm not surprised about that.'

'Why's that?' Daphne asked, skimming the stack of files for the names of the offenders.

Percy cleared his throat, and went into full lecture mood. 'The right of a court hearing is a fundamental right that is obeyed by all modern states governed by the rule of law,' he began.

Harry had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded impressive.

'Because of that, there has to be a hearing in every case that is taken to court. I'm afraid that's what these people speculate on, Harry.' Percy motioned towards the stack of rolls of parchment in front of him. 'They want their moment in your fame, and if it's only eye to eye with you in a courtroom.'

'What?' Harry didn't trust his ears. ' I'll have to go to all these hearings just because these morons want to be near me? I won't do that!'

'You don't have to,' Percy placated him. 'I can represent you as your lawyer; you don't need to attend the hearings.'

Harry let out a breath of relief. 'That's good to know. Maybe you should issue another press statement that explains that we're going to sue everyone who sends us a Howler, and that I'm not going to appear at the court hearings that result out of that. Maybe then the number of Howlers will eventually dwindle. As it is, there seem to be more each day.' He produced the lists of Howlers they - and especially Daphne - had got after Skeeter's latest article.

'Consider it done,' Percy said, and took the list from him. 'Now, let's go through these files and decide if there are some you'd like to duel, Harry…'

 **MY**

When they returned to _The Hideaway_ , they were both tired.

'Lawsuits are a tedious business,' Harry yawned, and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. 'I have no idea how Percy can do his job without falling asleep.'

Daphne chuckled. 'Actually, there are people who like that kind of work; Percy is one of them.' She stopped in her tracks, and pointed to a brown patch on the immaculate lawn in front of the house. 'What's that?'

Harry lowered his hands and looked up. The brown thing that lay on the grass looked oddly familiar. 'Errol!' he exclaimed. He hurried over to the bird, afraid that this trip might have been Errol's last.

'Oh, it's a post owl,' Daphne remarked, as he cautiously picked up the unconscious bird. 'You know it?' She fell into step beside him. 'Isn't all of your owl mail supposed to go to your post box at the post office on Diagon Alley?'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah; it's the Weasley's owl. The poor thing is ancient and ought to retire, but the Weasleys don't have the heart to replace it, or maybe they lack the money to buy a new owl; I don't know. I guess poor Errol somehow messed up its destination.'

By now, they had reached the kitchen. Harry put the owl on the table, which was met with a disapproving stare from Breezy, and removed the letter that was tied to its talon. 'Breezy, will you take care of poor Errol?' he asked his elf.

'Of course, Master Harry,' Breezy said. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a basket that she lined with a soft towel. Then she stepped to the table and gently put the still unconscious owl into the basket. 'Dirty birdy don't belong on Breezy's clean table,' she muttered under her breath. 'Young master still has to learn a lot!'

'Sorry, Breezy,' Harry grinned, trying to look appropriately contrite. Though his elves behaved deferential, they had never shown a sign of fear of him, and didn't hesitate to make their displeasure known, had he or Daphne done something to vex them.

He sat down at the table and opened the letter. His eyes got round when he read it.

'Bad news?' Daphne asked. She had sat down opposite of him.

'No; at least I don't think so. Mrs Weasley very politely invited both of us for dinner tonight, should we accept the invitation?'

'The Weasleys are your oldest friends, Harry. When they offer an olive branch to you, you ought to accept it,' Daphne replied.

'You're right,' he agreed, and moved to stand up. 'I'll answer the letter immediately.'

However, his wife snatched the letter out of his hand. 'No, you won't, Harry. Answering invitations is the job of the lady of the house, and Molly Weasley knows that. I don't want to give her a wrong impression.' With that, she walked towards the study.

 **MY**

'How do I look?' Daphne asked.

Harry looked up from the book he was reading in the living room, while he waited for Daphne to get ready for their visit to the Weasleys. Knowing the informal ways of the Weasleys, he had told her to dress casually, and then left a freaking Daphne in front of the open wardrobe. Never before he had seen his young wife that nervous. She almost behaved as if she was going to meet her in-laws for a first time, he had thought as he walked down to the living room, before it occurred to him that in a way this visit was exactly like that for her. The Weasleys had always meant more to him than his own family.

'You look lovely, kitty,' he smiled at her.

Heeding his advice, she had donned a pair of faded jeans that fit like a second skin, and combined them with an off-white blouse. A light blue Alice band kept the hair out of her face, and she wore no makeup and no jewellry, except his rings. She had simple trainers on her feet, and had a dark-blue cashmere cardigan draped around her shoulders, in case it got colder later at night.

He shut the novel and placed it on the coffee table, and then got up. Grabbing his leather jacket from the backrest of the chair where he had tossed it when he came down earlier that evening, he took Daphne's hand, and gave her a light kiss. 'Don't look that afraid, love. They won't bite you.'

'Says you,' she murmured, and bit her lips.

Five minutes later, he had apparated them to the hill behind the _Burrow_.

Daphne's eyes got wide when she saw the crooked house for a first time. 'Merlin, what amounts of magic do they have to pour in it to keep the house standing?' she exclaimed. Then she chuckled, taking in the untidy, overgrown flowerbeds and the huge vegetable patch, with the odd garden gnome scurrying around. 'Though, I have to admit, this place has a certain charm. It feels - homey.'

'It was the second home I knew, besides Hogwarts,' Harry said softly.

She leaned against him and kissed his cheek. 'I had no idea it means so much to you, love. But now you have your own home, don't you?'

Harry shrugged in response. ' _The Hideaway_ is nice, yes, but I do not yet feel truly at home there. It feels more like a vacation home to me, you know. Though, I love the view on the beach.'

Her eyes became dark with dismay. 'Oh Harry, I'm sorry! I should have realised that, and should have made an effort to make it really our home, instead of keeping everything like it was when we moved there.'

'Don't worry about that, Daphne. I'll get used to it. At least it's much better than the house on Grimmauld Place.' He took her hand, and led her down the hill towards the _Burrow_ , not noticing the determined side glance she gave him.

Ambling down the slope hand in hand, they had a good look at the backyard of the crooked house. Mrs Weasley obviously had ordered Bill and Percy to put up the tables, and they were just having the traditional Weasley table fight.

'What are they doing there?' Daphne asked.

Chuckling, Harry explained the cherished Weasley tradition to her, which made her laugh. 'I just try to imagine my father doing something like that!'

Harry joined her laughter. The thought of dignified Cyrus Greengrass joining a Weasley table fight was hilarious.

Still laughing, they reached the backyard. Bill and Percy turned around, lowering their wands, thus causing the tables crushing to the ground with the noise of splintering wood.

'Harry, Daphne, it's nice to see you again,' Bill greeted them with an outstretched hand. He gave Harry a one armed hug, and then greeted Daphne with the traditional hand kiss, and another kiss on her cheek.

Percy had also come closer, but greeted them in a much more formal way than his older brother.

George came out of the house that moment. He stopped at the threshold and turned around. 'Mum, dad, Harry and his wife are here!' He stepped into the garden and walked to them, a broad smile on his face. 'Great to see you again, Harry!' he grinned, and gave Harry a hearty slap on the back. 'Won't you introduce me to the beautiful Mrs. Potter?'

Harry put his arm around Daphne. 'Daphne, as you well know, this clown is George Weasley. George, this is my wife, Daphne Potter, formerly Greengrass.'

' _Enchanté_ , Mrs Potter,' George grinned, and bowed over her hand with a flourish.

'Daphne, please.'

George turned to Harry, and his grin became even broader. 'Tell me, how did you manage to land Hogwarts' hottest bird?'

Harry exchanged a look with his wife. There was no way he would tell George how he and Daphne had ended together. Judging by the look on her face, Daphne wholeheartedly agreed to that. 'Oh, you know, some guys have all the luck,' he replied lightly.

Their banter was interrupted by Mrs. and Mr. Weasley joining them. Mrs. Weasley's eyes had a guarded expression, however, her voice sounded warm when she said, 'My congratulations on your marriage, my dear,' and gave him a hug. She then turned to Daphne and gave her a polite handshake. 'My congratulations, Mrs. Potter.'

'Please, call me Daphne, Mrs. Weasley. Harry told me so much about how great you and your family were to him during his Hogwarts years.'

The two women exchanged a look. Obviously, Mrs. Weasley liked what she saw, because much of the wariness vanished from her expression. 'Take good care of my boy, Daphne.' Her voice sounded watery.

'I will,' Daphne promised, returning her gaze without flinching.

Harry watched their exchange with amazement. After what Bill had told him about his mother's reaction to his and Daphne's marriage after dinner on their wedding ball, he had expected a much colder reception by the Weasley matriarch, if not a veritable dressing down.

His musings were interrupted by the appearance of Ron and Hermione. While Hermione gave Harry a hug, and Ron greeted him with a slap on the back, they both merely gave Daphne a polite nod. At least they were polite, and didn't glare at Daphne all the time, like they had done in the pub, Harry thought. The four made awkward smalltalk, standing on the unkempt lawn. Harry had his arm around Daphne's shoulders, and she leaned against him. Looking at his both friends while they talked, he had to admit that Daphne had been right. They stood slightly apart, not even holding hands. Nothing in their demeanour betrayed that they were a couple. Harry racked his brain if they already had been like that before they left for Australia, but came up empty. His attention had been on Ginny back then, and he hadn't spent much time with his friends, though he had had the impression that they were perfectly happy.

Ginny was nowhere to be seen. Though Harry was relieved that he was spared a confrontation, his apprehension grew with every minute she didn't show up. Merlin alone knew what she planned, and he caught himself looking over his shoulder repeatedly at sudden noises. Of course, George caught on to his nervousness. A broad grin spread over his face, and he was obviously just thinking of a way to embarrass Harry, when Mrs. Weasley called them to dinner.

While they took their seats on the table, the door to the kitchen opened once again, and Ginny came out, directing a string of floating bowls and plates with a huge variation of delicious food with her wand. Harry suddenly remembered that she had turned of age a week ago. He hadn't thought once of her that day; a sure sign for him that he was truly over her.

Ginny directed the food to the table, and then slipped into her seat next to her mother, giving him the smallest of nods, and ignoring Daphne completely. The place she had chosen was as far away from him as possible, and Harry was grateful for that.

He found himself at Mr. Weasley's side, who wanted to know everything about their flight on a Muggle plane. Daphne quickly slid into the seat next to him, while Bill and Fleur took their seats opposite of them. George secured himself the place next to Daphne, and Percy sat down beside him. That left the the last two places on the side of the table opposite of Harry and Daphne to Hermione and Ron. Hermione sat down next to Fleur, while Ron had to sit next to his sister.

Mr. Weasley seemed to find no end with his questions, and commanded Harry's full attention. While normally that would have amused him to no end, today he found it annoying, because he had to leave his bride in an at least partially hostile company to fend for herself. With half an ear he tried to listen to the conversations she had with the other members of the dinner party, while he enjoyed the delicious, home-cooked meal.

Daphne and Fleur were exchanging their opinions about the places for a holiday in France. While Fleur enthusiastically recommended her home town, _Aigues_ _Mortes_ , that seemed to be somewhere in the south, Daphne revelled in the memories of a summer spent with her family in Brittany, near _St. Malo_ , where friends of Cyrus Greengrass owned a small chateau which they had lend to the Greengrass' for the summer. To Harry's amazement, Hermione also threw in her two Knuts. Though, he shouldn't be surprised, he thought. After all, she used to spend the summers in France with her parents while they were still at Hogwarts.

'The magic you'll find displaced in old places like the town of _La_ _Rochelle_ is amazing,' she told the two other girls, obviously in full lecture mood.

Harry had the impression that Fleur barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at her.

Daphne, however, took up the bait. 'Well, I've never been to the _Côte Lumiére_ , but I'm sure that in terms of ancient magic nothing rivals Brittany. After all, it was the land of Merlin. You only have to walk through the forest of _Brocéliande_ once to feel it. I swear, my hairs stood up at the back of my head from the magic that was around us.'

'Brittany ees the most spiritual landscape een France,' Fleur nodded to that. 'Though the South of France can also boast a lot of places weeth eenherent ancient _magique_ , due to the ancient Greek and Romans who founded settlements there, eet's not as pronounced - and as old - as the _magique_ of Brittany. Also, the many Muggles that settled een the South are sipping up much of the eenherent _magique_ of these places.'

Hermione looked as if she was burning to ask Fleur thoroughly about that topic, but Fleur ignored her, and started a conversation about her favourite shops in the magical district of Paris with Daphne, a topic where Hermione clearly felt at a loss. For a second time Harry saw a strange emotion flaring up in his friend's eye, but as on the day before, it was gone the next second, leaving him with a slightly uneasy feeling.

'How was your trip to Australia? Have you found your parents?' he asked his friend, trying to overcome his feelings.

Hermione's face turned pale. She stopped eating, and looked at him with a haunted expression in her eyes.

'Hermione, what happened?' he asked, alarmed.

'Well, we found my parents, and I could restore her memories. However,...' Tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice broke.

Ron put his hand on hers and squeezed it soothingly. 'Her parents weren't very happy about what happened. They said something about that Hermione took the decision about their lives out of their hands, and manipulated them with magic. That lead to a hard fight between them and Hermione. They refused to talk to her after that.'

Harry's heart sank. 'I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you, Hermione?'

His friends shook her head. 'Thank you, that's nice of you, Harry. I know my parents, and there's hope they'll quit giving me the cold shoulder as soon as they've cooled down from their anger. It's been worth it: at least my high-handed decision kept them alive, so they could tell me how disappointed in me they are.' Her voice was steady, but there was a bitterness in it Harry never before had heard from his friend.

He looked at her with concern. 'Are they back in England?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Actually, they like it in Australia, and decided to stay there. They weren't happy when they discovered I've dropped out of school last year, and still have to do my seventh year. I tried to explain…' Again, her voice broke.

'But you didn't have another choice, with the Muggle-born Registration Committee!' Harry exclaimed. 'They would've sent you to Azkaban, and killed you!'

'Try tell that to the Grangers,' Ron interjected with a harsh laugh. 'I've tried, and they accused me that I was exaggerating; that I only wanted to mask that you and I persuaded their precious daughter to drop out of school and run around the country with her because we wanted…' He interrupted himself, and turned beet red.

'Thanks, I got the picture,' Harry replied dryly, shaking his head. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know.'

Hermione only nodded in response, and dabbed her eyes.

Harry averted his eyes. Her tears made him feel uneasy. From the corner of his eyes he saw how Ron tentatively put an arm around Hermione's shoulders, but she shrugged him off. Their behaviour seemed to confirm Daphne's suspicion that their relationship took a turn to the worse during their time in Australia.

His musings were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, announcing the pudding curse. With a practised flick of her wand she summoned two treacle tarts from the kitchen. 'Please, get the custard, Ginny,' she told her daughter.

Ginny nodded and raised her wand. An odd smile played around her lips.

Harry made an involuntary motion; he didn't like the dangerous gleam in her eyes at all.

Two bowls of custard sauce sailed out of the kitchen. The first bowl descended in front of Mrs. Weasley in a graceful arch, and Mrs. Weasley gave her daughter an approving nod.

The second bowl zoomed towards the other end of the table. Instead of descending in front of Mr. Weasley, however, it suddenly rose again, and then jerked to the side. Ginny made a wilde movement with her wand, as if preventing the bowl from spinning out of control. The bowl jerked again, then toppled over, and dumped its content over Daphne.

The sticky sauce instantly covered Daphne's hair with a thick, pale-yellow layer. Huge droplets sluggishly run down her cheeks, and across her nose and chin, to drip on her blouse and chest with a soft splash.

'Oops, sorry,' Ginny said, and stashed her wand away.

Dead silence followed her words. Harry could see the colour rising in Mrs. Weasley's cheeks, and knew Ginny would be in for one of her mother's infamous dressing-downs the next minute. She surely deserved it; her behaviour towards a guest was inexcusable. She behaved like the spoilt child Bill had described her, but not like a young adult. Harry felt anger on behalf of his wife rise inside of him, and he moved to get up from his chair, to teach Ginny a lesson or two.

A small hand held him back. His head turned to his wife, and he saw her giving him an almost imperceptible shake of her head, while another huge drop splashed down from the tip of her nose onto her chest. As always, her composure had the effect of bringing him back to his senses instantly, and he sunk back into his seat.

As soon as she was sure he wouldn't make a scene, Daphne turned away from him. A broad grin appeared on her face that rapidly turned into a full blown laughter. 'Thank you, Ginny! I love custard sauce, but you didn't need to give me a whole bowl for myself!' She wiped the sauce from her face with a finger, and then licked the sauce off it.

Her laughter broke the tension. Everybody around the table joined her laughter, while Fleur flicked her wand and cleaned Daphne of the custard sauce that still dripped from her head onto her blouse and chest. 'Cream and egg yolk make a good deep conditioner for your hair,' she quipped.

Mrs. Weasley summoned another bowl of custard sauce from the kitchen. Laughing and chatting, everyone around the table began to serve themselves the delicious treacle tart and custard sauce.

However, for the first time Harry felt himself unable to do Mrs. Weasley's cooking justice. His eyes were still on Ginny.

She hadn't joined the laughter. Her eyes as dark as thunderclouds, she had slumped back in her seat and sulked, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her mother and her older siblings ignored her, but the glares they occasionally sent her way told Harry that this was not yet over for Ginny.

He frowned while he pretended to concentrate on his treacle tart. Ginny's behaviour didn't bode well for the upcoming school year. Just like Ron, she could hold to a grudge, and found it hard to admit when she had done wrong. Without the restraining influence of her parents and her older siblings she would probably take out her ire and disappointment about his break-up with her on Daphne. Even though Ron and Hermione had behaved polite towards Daphne tonight, Harry knew that this was due to the unwritten rules of hospitality. He wouldn't set his hopes on his friends raising one finger to restrain Ginny when they were back at Hogwarts.

Finally, the meal was over. Mrs. Weasley cleared the table with Ginny's help, and the two women disappeared into the kitchen. No sound was heard from there afterwards, not even the clatter of dishes, which suggested that Mrs. Weasley for once had thought of putting up strong silencing charms while she took her daughter to task for her behaviour.

'May I have a private word with you, Harry and Daphne?' Mr. Weasley asked.

The young couple exchanged an amazed look, but agreed, and followed Mr. Weasley into the house.

Mrs. Weasley was nowhere to be seen when they walked across the kitchen, but Ginny stood at the sink, cleaning the dishes by hand, Harry noticed with an inward grin. She kept her back turned to them and didn't acknowledge their entrance.

Mr. Weasley led them to the living room. The moment they entered the room from the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley came in from the hall, a colourfully wrapped parcel in her hands. The two couples sat down in the shabby, yet comfortable chairs, facing each other.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. 'Harry, I'm awfully sorry I sent that Howler to you after you wrote us about your marriage. You see, I was under the impression that you and Ginny had come to an understanding, so your announcement caught me off guard, and my first impression was that Daphne must have done something to you to manipulate you into that marriage. I acted without thinking, and I'm sorry for that.' She looked genuinely contrite.

'It's all right, Mrs. Weasley. Percy told us what Ginny had said to you after I broke up with her,' Harry assured her.

Mrs. Weasley gave him an uneasy smile. 'Well, I'd always hoped… But it wasn't meant to be. Bill told us after your wedding ball how happy you are, and tonight I could see for myself how deeply Daphne cares for you.' She gave Daphne an approving smile that made the colour rise into the cheeks of the young woman.

Harry took his wife's hand. 'You're right, Mrs. Weasley. Daphne is the best thing that ever happened to me.'

'You're exaggerating, love,' Daphne said, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

'I don't think so, Daphne,' Mr. Weasley interjected. 'I've seen Harry grow up from a boy to a young adult who had placed the survival of our world on his shoulders. In all that time I've never seen him this relaxed and sure of himself. I doubt all that is due to the pressure being removed from him. If that were the case, he would already have shown signs of that change when he still lived at the _Burrow_ after the war, but he didn't.'

Mrs. Weasley held out the parcel to them. 'I'm sorry we missed your wedding ball. My husband thought it better to remove Ginny and me from England, so that we couldn't attend the ball.' She smiled at them in embarrassment. 'We thought you might like to have this.'

Daphne took the parcel, and thanked her. Then she unwrapped it.

Harry's breath caught as she removed the last layer of paper. 'It's a family clock!' he exclaimed. The clock looked exactly like the familiar clock on the wall of the Weasley's kitchen, except that it only had two hands with the pictures of him and Daphne on it. With some amusement he noticed that the pictures were animated, and smiled at each other and blew each other kisses. Both hands pointed at "visiting".

'A family clock?' Daphne asked, looking at the magical artefact in her lap in confusion.

'It's old Prewett family magic,' Mrs. Weasley explained. 'I don't think they are used outside of our family. They have hands for all members of the family, and show you where they are and what they are doing. We gave Fleur and Bill one for their wedding. Since you're about to start your own family, we thought it a fitting present.'

Daphne gave her a blinding smile. 'Thank you, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley! This is a very thoughtful gift, and means a lot to us.'

Harry nodded in agreement, too moved for words.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at them. 'I'm happy you like it! Look, you can add additional hands to it when your family grows.' She pointed at about two dozen of additional hands that still lay in the wrapping paper on Daphne's lap.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look. Harry could hardly suppress a snort at the slight expression of horror in his wife's eyes when she saw the number of additional hands. A soft chuckle from Mr. Weasley told him that he had also noticed it.

'No worry; there's no obligation coming with the clock to use all the hands, though I bet Molly will be pestering you soon about honorary grandchildren,' Mr. Weasley laughed.

Daphne's cheeks were rather red, but she joined his laughter, and replied, 'Well, we'll at least have to finish our Hogwarts education first, before I'm even willing to think about children. After that - we'll see.'

Mrs. Weasley got up and hugged her. 'I'm sure you and Harry will make the right decision, my dear.'

Daphne returned the hug, and then the two couples stood up to join the others.

However, Harry put a hand on Mrs. Weasley's arm and held her back.

'I've met your sister,' he told her quietly.

Mrs. Weasley froze. A strange expression flickered across her face; it was a mix of embarrassment and hurt. 'I don't have a sister,' she snarled at him, and rushed out of the room.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a helpless look, while Mr. Weasley sighed deeply.

'How did you meet Moira?' he asked.

'She's married to one of my cousins, Aaron Vaisey,' Daphne explained. 'He's my fourth cousin, once removed.'

'Shows again how small our magical community is,' Mr. Weasley said with a mirthless chuckle. 'Look, Harry and Daphne, I don't want to excuse Molly's behaviour towards her sister, but you have to understand that within a family sometimes things are said, and wounds are inflicted, that never heal. It all happened during the first war. I think the last two years will have you understand what a horrible time that has been for us. Molly's older brothers had just been killed, and she was beside herself with grief. Moira was also grieving for her brothers, but she dealt better with her emotions than Molly did back then. I think Aaron helped her a lot. However, he came from an old Slytherin family, and the experiences of the first war had somehow instilled in Molly the belief that being a Slytherin equated to being evil. When Moira became engaged to Aaron, the sisters had a huge row, and refused to talk to each other after that. They are both Prewetts, a family infamous for their rash temper, their stubbornness, and their ability to hold a grudge indefinitely. Even though Molly's stance towards Slytherins has softened since she met Alastor Moody, I won't hold my breath that she will come to terms with her sister anytime soon.'

'Moira seems to regret the estrangement,' Daphne said softly.

Mr. Weasley sighed again. 'Give them time, Daphne. This reminder of the existence of her sister will have my wife thinking.'

In a thoughtful silence, the three walked into the garden.

The Weasley children and Hermione still sat around the table and chatted; Ginny had just joined them after finishing washing the dishes. When Harry and Daphne sat down, Bill and Fleur smiled at them warmly, while Ron and Hermione's eyes became guarded.

Harry sighed inwardly. It would take a long time until his best friends accepted Daphne - if ever, and he resigned himself to the fact that their friendship probably never would be the same again.

'Are you looking forward to your last year at Hogwarts?' Bill's voice startled him out of his morose thoughts.

He shook his head. 'Not really. I'm only going back because I have to if I want to join Auror school. But I'm not so sure about that anymore.'

Hermione let out a shocked gasp. 'That was everything you ever wanted, Harry.'

'Yes,' he admitted, and shot her a weak smile. 'But that was before I found out I had other obligations that are taking up a lot of my time.'

'What other obligations?' Hermione looked blank.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, stalling time, because he had no idea how he should tell his best friends about the two vast inheritances he got. He decided to be a Gryffindor about it and jump right in. 'Well, managing the Potter holdings and the Black holdings is already taking up most of my time these days. Soon, the faction meetings and the Wizengamot meetings will cost me at least two additional afternoons a month, not to mention the reading I'll have to do in preparation for these meetings. I doubt I'll have the time for a full time Auror job besides that. And there are Andromeda and Teddy who'll need my support. I want to have time to see Teddy grow up.'

While Bill and Fleur nodded to that in understanding - as employees of Gringotts they probably had an idea of the vast fortunes he had inherited, Harry thought - Ron and Hermione gaped at him. 'But -! You need to provide a living for your family, Harry!' Hermione protested.

Harry couldn't help exchanging an amused glance with his wife. The corners of Daphne's mouth were slightly upturned, a sure sign that she found this exclamation as hilarious as he did. 'I'm sure we won't starve,' he replied dryly.

He heard a snort coming from Bill, and Fleur turned her head to the side, so that Hermione couldn't see her broad grin, and the wink she gave Harry and Daphne.

Oblivious to that short interplay, Hermione gave him a disapproving look. 'I'd never have thought you'll prefer to laze around, Harry, but suit yourself.' The side glance she cast into Daphne's direction clearly indicated who she thought responsible for his decision.

Daphne gave her a serene smile in return.

The colour shot into Hermione's cheeks, and again her eyes flashed in that strange expression Harry was unable to figure out. However, before Hermione could give Daphne a tongue-lashing, Fleur cut in, much to Harry's relief.

'What are your plans, Daphne?' she asked.

Daphne turned her head away from Hermione and looked at the half-Veela. 'Originally, I had other plans than taking my N.E.W.T.s, but when Harry decided to return to Hogwarts, I offered to come with him. We don't want to be separated.' She took his hand and gave him a soft smile.

Harry wasn't fooled for a second by her behaviour. By the way she looked at Hermione from the corner of her eyes he was sure that this was a little expert Slytherin acting on Daphne's part to mark her claim on him in front of Hermione. He bent towards her, as if to kiss her, and whispered, 'snake!' into her ear.

She rewarded him with a broad smile that got even broader as Hermione's expression scrunched up as if she had bitten into a lemon.

The look Hermione cast at Daphne was full of disdain. 'Of course, you rich Pureblood girls don't need to work for a living, so I'm not surprised you didn't want to return for your last year,' she griped.

Daphne didn't bother to correct her, though her face became a stony mask that told Harry that she was reigning in her anger. Harry couldn't blame his wife on that. The way Hermione took every opportunity to turn a remark Daphne made against her began to grate on his nerves. He made no attempt to mask his annoyance about his friend, and glared at Hermione.

Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably under his glare. She averted her eyes, and though she didn't go as far as to apologise, she pedalled back and made a peace offering. She gave Harry an apologising smile, and asked, 'Ron, Ginny and I are planning on shopping for our school supplies on Thursday next week. Would you and Daphne like to join us?'

Harry looked at his wife, not sure if she was willing to accept that half-hearted olive branch.

Daphne bit her lips. 'We already agreed to meet with Morag, Ernie and Neville that day to do our shopping. Mother also asked me to take Tori along. She doesn't like her to be in London unsupervised.' She looked at his friends, giving them a close-lipped smile. 'However, I don't think they'll mind an addition to our group. Why don't you join us? The more, the merrier, I'd say!'

Harry almost applauded at the way Daphne managed to convey her displeasure about his friend's behaviour, while being perfectly polite.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. Obviously they hadn't thought that they would have to share Harry with other people besides Daphne. They came to a decision; Hermione turned to Daphne, and said with a smile that not quite reached her eyes, 'That sounds lovely!'

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but he was willing to give his friends the time they needed to adjust to his marriage to Daphne. He owed that to their long years of friendship and the faith they had always put in him. He felt how Daphne's hand stole in his, and he turned his head to look into her eyes.

The small smile she gave him told him that she understood, and that she was willing to put up with his friends' behaviour for his sake. However, the faint glint in her eyes also warned him that her patience wasn't indefinite. He bent down to her, and kissed her on the lips. 'Thank you, love,' he mouthed.

Not long after that, the party broke up.

'Mate, what about tossing the Quaffle for a while this Saturday?' Ron asked when they made their goodbyes.

'I'd love to, Ron, but Daphne and I are invited to a wedding coming Saturday,' Harry replied with sincere regret in his voice.

Ron didn't look pleased, but he accepted with a nod.

'Who's going to marry?' Hermione asked.

'Lisa Turpin and Terry Boot. Lisa is a friend of Daphne,' Harry explained.

That seemed to surprise Hermione and Ron. Lisa and Terry both were popular among their classmates, and well known for their firm stance against Voldemort and his Pureblood Supremacy. A friendship between Lisa and Daphne obviously didn't fit into his friend's view of the world, Harry thought with an inward snort.

However, they agreed on an afternoon of playing Quidditch on the Saturday before school started again.

 **MY**

'Was that a foretaste of what's going to await us from these two as soon as we're back at Hogwarts?' Daphne asked rhetorically as soon as they were in the privacy of their bedroom that night.

'I'm afraid so, love,' Harry replied, and took her into his arms. 'I know I'm asking a lot of you, but I'm sure they'll come to their senses and accept you one day. They are both very headstrong, so that will take some time. Can you put up with them until then?'

She leaned against him and ran her fingers through his silky hair. 'You know I will, love,' she replied. 'You're lucky I'm a snake and not a lioness, or I already would've traded hexes with them tonight!'

He chuckled at that. 'I wouldn't have blamed you; Hermione was unbearable. I almost lost my patience with her myself.'

'But you didn't, because she's one of your oldest friends, and you still feel guilty for the way you've used her as a stress relief while you were on the run,' his wife remarked, and gave him a shrewd glance. 'That's alright with me, Harry, but you've got to be careful not to give her the wrong signals.'

 **MY**

The ten days until the shopping trip passed rather uneventful, at least compared to the whirlwind their life had been since their wedding. The next day brought the newest edition of _Witch Weekly_. The biggest part of the magazine covered the festivities around Morag and Ernie's wedding. The picture Trude Herr had taken of the eight couples at the _Barnabas the Barmy_ had got a prominent spot. The article about the party also contained a short section about the talk they had had with Mrs. Herr, stating that the rumours about their marriage problems were wrong. It was accompanied by a close-up view of Harry and Daphne. Daphne had his arms around his neck, and they were smiling at each other. The affection and trust they felt for each other was plain to see on their faces. Harry loved the picture, and thought of writing to Mrs. Herr and asking her for a copy.

Percy stood to his word and send them informations about the press statement he had issued that day, pertaining to their future dealings with people who would have the audacity to send Howlers to them.

'Good! That should take care of our two most pressing problems,'' Daphne remarked, closing the magazine, as Harry told her of Percy's letter.

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but didn't want to destroy her hopeful mood, either. The longer her knew her, the more he was aware that Daphne wasn't as hardened to the talk of the public as he was, and that the constant appearance of their names in the newspapers, and speculations about the state of their marriage, was getting at her.

He was thankful that his young bride was distracted from the strain she was under by Lisa's hen night. The fun-loving Ravenclaw had invited all of her girlfriends to a sleep-over at her parents house, and Daphne was looking forward to a night of girl's talk and junk food as she kissed him goodbye on Thursday evening.

'Be a good boy and don't apparate when you're drunk,' she teased him, and gave him another kiss. 'I told Sunny to get you when you pass out, and have a Hangover Potion ready for tomorrow morning.'

'I'm not planning on getting drunk,' Harry replied with as much dignity as he could muster.

His wife laughed at him. 'On a stag night? Dream on, love!' With a cheery wave at him she left for Lisa's house, and Harry got ready for Terry's stag night at the _Leaky Cauldron_.

Of course, Daphne's prediction turned out to be right. In the wee hours of the morning, a rather drunk Harry stumbled into his bed. Terry's stag night surely was worth to remember. Michael Corner, who was Terry's best man, had hired a Muggle stripper, and smuggled her into the back room of the _Leaky Cauldron_ that Terry had rented for that night. How Corner managed that feat without breaking the Statute of Secrecy was beyond Harry, but the performance had been well received by the group of young men assembled there. However, it had not been remotely as exciting as undressing his own wife, Harry thought, and the bed suddenly seemed huge and empty to him. He turned around and hugged Daphne's pillow that smelled faintly of her, and fell asleep, a smile on his lips.

Luckily for Harry and Daphne, the Turpin/Boot wedding was under the radar of the two _Prophets_ , so no pictures, neither of the stag night nor of the actual wedding, turned up in any of the newspapers. Harry was thankful that he could concentrate on the affairs of the Potter and Black holdings for a couple of days in a row without any interruption. Well, at least if you didn't call Percy informing them that their lawsuit against the _Prophet_ was now pending a distraction. Since the two newspapers concerned chose not to comment, it probably wasn't.

Daphne was happily puttering about the house. When they moved into _The Hideaway_ from Grimmauld Place, the house had been furnished with all the essentials. The hundreds of little knickknacks, however, that make a house a home, were missing. It had never occurred to Harry; after all, what did he know about house decorations? _The Hideaway_ was a huge improvement compared to the house on Grimmauld Place: no sad memories haunted him here, and he loved the view on the beach. That alone was enough to endear the house to Harry.

His determined young wife, however, wasn't willing to leave it at that. Together with Breezy she visited the Potter Family Vault, and as a result additional carpets and rugs, low end-tables, lamps and photos of his parents and grandparents in silver frames turned up in the house. She filled the empty shelves in the living room with the books she had collected during her school years, and eventually the impression of a vacation home vanished, and _The Hideaway_ became their home.

Before Harry knew it, the day of the shopping trip had come. He apparated Daphne to her parent's home to pick up Tori, and from there the three took the Floo to the _Leaky Cauldron_.

Morag, Ernie and Neville were already sitting at a table in the corner of the pub, while Ginny, Hermione and Ron stumbled out of the Floo right after the Potters and Tori. Morag, Ernie and Neville came over to greet them.

'Nice to see you again, Mrs. Macmillan,' Harry winked at his cousin-in-law, and gave her a formal kiss on the knuckles, followed by a hug and a kiss on her cheek. From the corner of his eyes he noticed that Hermione's eyes got wide at that, and even wider when Ernie and Neville greeted Daphne and Tori in the same manner.

The greeting the Potters and their friends exchanged with the Weasley siblings and Hermione was not remotely as warm. While Harry gave Hermione a hug, and Ron a slap on the shoulder, he merely shook hands with Ginny. His ex ignored Daphne and her sister, while she exchanged polite handshakes with the rest of the group. Hermione and Ron at least had the decency to greet everyone with a handshake.

'Do I really have to tag along, Daffy?' Tori whined as soon as the greetings were over.'Gina wrote me to meet her at the new café. Her mother doesn't mind if the two of us shop together, and doesn't insist that we have a chaperone.'

'Of course not, Tori. Skip off, but don't get into trouble, or mother will never let me hear the end of it,' Daphne grinned.

Tori didn't have to be told twice. With a 'You're the best, Daffy!' she gave her older sister a bearhug, and then skipped out of the taproom.

'Do you believe in that appointment with Gina?' Harry asked his wife as he took her hand to lead her towards the entrance of Diagon Alley. 'I don't know much about these things, but she seems to have dressed up rather nicely today. I doubt a shopping trip with Gina demands so much effort.'

Daphne laughed. 'Of course not, love. I know she's been writing to a boy all summer long, but she refused to tell me his name; I hope to find out who he is today. After all, you can never have enough blackmail material against your siblings.'

Harry, Morag, Ernie and Neville laughed at that, and even Ron and Ginny had to grin at the truth of that statement, but Hermione gave Daphne a disapproving look.

The eight young people paused at the entrance to the alley, discussing which shop to visit first.

'I'd love to go to Flourish and Blotts and get our book shopping out of the way first,' Hermione announced, not surprising.

Even less surprising was the groan that remark elicited from Ron. 'Must we, Hermione? We can go there last. Let's visit Quality Quidditch Supplies first; I've heard they've the new Firebolt Extreme on display.'

However, Morag, Daphne and even Ginny supported Hermione, though Harry supposed Ginny only did it to vex Ron. He and Ernie exchanged a look and a wink, and when their wives asked them for their opinion, they said, almost unison, 'As you wish, my dear.'

Neville hardly suppressed a snort, while Ron looked at them as if they had lost all of their senses. Of course, he couldn't let it go. While they walked to the bookshop, he and Hermione took the lead, with the other couples following behind in a slower pace. From the way Ron and Hermione were turned to each other, and their stiff body language, it was easy to tell that a heated argument was going on between them.

'He still has a lot to learn before he can get married,' Ernie remarked serenely, and put his arm around his wife's shoulder.

'Oh, I don't know,' Neville grinned. 'I always thought that's their idea of foreplay.'

That earned him gagging noises from Ginny and Harry, and amused laughter from the rest of the group.

'You're talking of my brother there, Neville,' Ginny complained.

'Yeah, that's the kind of mental image I really don't need of my best friends,' Harry agreed.

Under much laughter and teasing they walked to the entrance of the bookshop. Even Ginny thawed a little. Neville had taken her under his wing, and regarded her with stories about Terry Boot's stag night, which seemed to amuse her to no end.

Harry gave his friend a thankful nod, but wasn't too happy when Neville described in great detail the performance of the Muggle stripper. Morag and Ernie, who still had been on their honeymoon and didn't attend the wedding of Lisa and Terry, listened with amused smiles around their lips.

Daphne slid her arm around Harry's waist, and gave him a conspiratorial wink. 'Don't worry, love. I know everything about the stripper. Michael thought he was so subtle about it, but he still has to learn there isn't much that escapes Lisa. Was she at least worth looking at?'

'Not as much as you!' The words were out before he thought about them.

'Smart answer,' Daphne grinned, while Morag, Ernie and Neville broke out into laughter. Ron and Hermione, however, who had waited for them at the entrance of the store, looked scandalised, while Ginny looked as if she had bitten on a lemon.

The four couples split up in the store to do their own shopping. When Harry followed his wife, holding the shopping basket for her as she browsed the shelves, he found to his amazement he actually liked it. He remembered the first time he had been here with Hagrid, and the amazement and awe he had felt when he discovered how multifaceted magic was. Hagrid, however, had nipped in the bud any desire Harry showed in branching out by forbidding him to buy anything else than his school books. On later trips, and in Hogwarts, Ron's laziness and lack of money had prevented him from showing interest in anything that was beyond their book list.

With Daphne, however, he had no such qualms. They quickly gathered the books that were on their lists for the upcoming year, and then browsed the shelves for some additional reading that piqued their fancy. Harry put some books about the Wizengamot and the management of magical properties into the basket, while Daphne found a beautifully illustrated book about the development and changes in traditional wizard robes from the times of the founders until today, and another one about the use of Ancient Runes in mechanical art.

'That'll come in handy with the production, if I ever manage to establish my own fashion line,' she remarked as she put the book into the basket.

'I'm sure you will,' Harry told her as they slowly ambled to the cashier. 'You're nothing but determined, and you know I'll do anything to help you as soon as we've finished Hogwarts.'

She bent towards him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. 'I know, love.'

'What are you two talking about?' Hermione's voice interrupted him. She seemed to have materialised behind them as if out of thin air.

Daphne's eyes flashed with annoyance. 'Future plans,' she replied curtly. Her voice made clear that she didn't want to talk about it, but of course Hermione wasn't deterred by that.

'What plans?' she pried.

'They're not yet ripe for decision, but I'll make sure you'll be the first one to know when they are,' Daphne replied sweetly.

Hermione huffed at that, and Harry couldn't help the small chuckle of amusement that escaped him at his wife's retort.

In spite of the rebuke, Hermione was glued to them as they paid for their purchases.

Harry's eyebrows went up when the clerk mentioned the price of the book about the development of wizarding fashion. 'Ten Galleons? Isn't that a trifle steep for a book?'

'It's a very rare book, and the illustrations are hand drawn, Mr. Potter,' the clerk apologised.

Harry grinned at his wife. 'Tell me again, why do you have your own vault, kitty?'

'You were the one who put everything on one bill,' Daphne pointed out, unfazed. 'Of course I'll pay you back, if you insist on it, my husband,' she added in a formal tone, though her eyes mocked him.

As always, her obedient wife act shut him up. 'Saucy little minx,' he grinned, and pulled out the Galleons to pay for their joined purchase.

Hermione gasped. 'Harry! You can't be serious! That is thousand pounds for a book about _fashion.'_

Her voice couldn't have sounded more scandalized if it had been a book about porn, Harry thought. 'Your point is, Hermione?' he asked, putting away the change.

'You shouldn't squander your money on rubbish,' she retorted. The words " _especially not for that bitch!"_ were never spoken, but plain to see on her face.

Harry felt annoyance well up in him, and he had to call on the calming exercises Daphne had taught him not to blow up into his friend's face.

'Why not, if it makes Daphne happy?' he asked, then took Daphne's arm and led her out of the shop.

'Uh-oh, that was adding fuel to the fire,' Daphne chuckled quietly at him as they left the store, Hermione's annoyed huff following them.

Thankfully, she still had to pay for her purchase. When she finally came out of the shop, the others had caught up with them. Though she gave Harry and Daphne an annoyed look, the presence of the rest of their party prevented her from harping on about what she thought Harry's improvidence.

'I need new school robes,' Neville announced. 'The Carrows somehow didn't agree with my old ones.' His sarcasm earned him a few rueful chuckles. 'Anyone else who needs to go to Madam Malkin's?'

Hermione, Ron and Ginny nodded, while Morag shook her head. 'Ernie and I have ordered our robes at Twilfitt and Tattings before our wedding. However, we still need to pick them up.'

'Harry and me, too,' Daphne threw in. 'Why don't we split up and meet at the apothecary after that?'

The others agreed to that, but Harry was well aware of the disapproval in Hermione's eyes at what she thought to be another prove of his blatant foolishness in financial matters.

Picking up their robes didn't last long, and they reached the apothecary with time to spare before the others. While Daphne and Morag settled down on a bench in front of the apothecary to have a chat, Harry and Ernie ambled over to Quality Quidditch Supplies for some window shopping. A couple of very young boys were pressing their noses to the window pane. Harry and Ernie chuckled, but could easily enough look over their heads at the brooms on display. The _pièce de résistance_ was, of course, the new Firebolt Extreme. Harry was still describing the improvements of that model compared to the Firebolt to Ernie, when the others joined them.

'Cor, what a broom!' Ron exclaimed, and pressed his nose to the window pane much like the little boys who surrounded him like rocks a lighthouse. He didn't pay heed to the laughter of his companions, but continued admiring the broom as if there was nothing of more importance in the world.

There probably wasn't, Harry thought with an inward smile. He regarded his best mate with a fond look. At the age of eighteen, Ron still had much of the boy he had been at eleven, and that probably would never change. As annoying as his immaturity often was for Harry, it also was as often an endearing trait, and Harry suddenly realised that he didn't want his friend to change. No matter how much Ron's insecurities grated on his nerves, and would cause them to fight, they always found a common ground and made up. This time wasn't any different. Ron would come to grips with his marriage to Daphne - eventually. Though, Harry had no doubt that his friend's journey to see the light would earn him one or two hexes from Harry's not-so-obedient Pureblood wife - and probably from Harry, too. If that helped to speed up the process, the better for all of them.

He was pulled out of his musings by Ron, who asked, 'Are you going to get one, mate?'

'I should not think so; Harry has other obligations, now that he's married,' Hermione's indignant voice cut in, at the same time as Harry said, 'Daphne gave me one three weeks ago.'

'Wicked!' Ron breathed, his eyes shining like stars. He gave Daphne a look of respect.

Harry hardly suppressed a laugh. Obviously, it hadn't needed much more than a top-of-the-range racing broom to catapult his wife from the ranks of a slimy snake to being alright.

The corners of Daphne's mouth twitched, telling him that she found Ron's 180 as hilarious as he did, and Morag, Ernie, Neville and Ginny had to turn around to hide their laughter.

Hermione, however, cast a murderous look at Daphne that made Harry involuntarily step between the two young women.

'You can try it out on Saturday,' he promised his friend, determinedly ignoring Hermione and her airs.

That left Ron speechless. He raised no objections when the group walked to the apothecary, but followed them, a dreamy expression on his face.

A visit at the stationary shop followed. Mindful of his upcoming Wizengamot duties, and the correspondence he would have to lead with his managers, Harry stocked up on extra parchment, quills and ink.

It was already past lunchtime when they left the shop, and the young men began to complain about hunger.

'We can have lunch at the new café at Florean Fortescue's former icy cream parlour, and do the rest of our shopping afterwards' Morag suggested.

The others agreed enthusiastically, while Hermione frowned, and Ginny and Ron exchanged an uneasy glance.

'Lunch is on me,' Harry announced. He had no idea about the Weasley's financial status these days, but even if that had improved, due to the older children leaving the nest, Harry was sure that Mrs Weasley probably kept Ron and Ginny on a short leash, out of principle. The thankful smile they shot into his direction after his announcement proved his assumption to be right. More surprising, however, was the look of relief that flickered across Hermione's face. As far as Harry knew, the Grangers were rather well off. He couldn't imagine his friend having money troubles, but obviously she had. Was her falling-out with her parents the reason for that? He still thought about that new problem when he followed his friends into the café. This was neither the time and the place to talk to Hermione about that, but he resolved to talk to her as soon as they were back at Hogwarts.

The lunch crowd was already gone, and they had no problems to find a table big enough to seat them all. Harry was among the first to make his choice. He shut the menu and leaned back in his seat, letting his eyes wander around the café. He gasped when he discovered a very familiar blonde head in a secluded spot, and he put his hand on his wife's arm.

Daphne was still perusing the menu, but at his touch she looked up, a questioning expression on her face.

'Have a look over there,' he told her quietly, and nodded towards the half-hidden table that had piqued his interest.

His wife frowned as she tried to discover what had caused the mischievous gleam in his eyes. When she was finally successful, a look of sheer delight appeared on her face. 'That little snake!'

Morag also looked up from her menu. 'Who?' she asked.

'Tori,' Daphne replied. 'Look who she's all cosy with!'

Her cousin looked into the direction she had pointed out. 'Isn't that…!' she gasped.

'Gideon Vaisey, our mutual fifth cousin,' Daphne nodded.

Ernie chuckled. 'Well, that should give you enough blackmail material for the next twenty years, Daphne.'

Neville, Ron and Ginny joined his laughter, while Hermione looked as clueless as Harry felt.

'Alright, what I'm missing here?' he asked.

Neville took pity on him. 'You know that the magical world is a very small community. Because of that, most magical families are somehow related. To prevent incest and genetic diseases, it's frowned upon to marry someone who is related closer to you than a seventh cousin.'

Hermione frowned at that. 'What about families like the Blacks, or the Gaunts? They married their first cousins, to keep their blood pure, didn't they?'

'And so do at least a dozen more, among them the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Malfoys, the Notts, and the Parkinsons,' Neville nodded. 'And look where it got them. Crabbe and Goyle were just one step away from being a Squib, while the magical strength of Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson is way below average. It's no accident they all chose N.E.W.T. subjects that require next to no wand work, like Potions, Arithmancy, History and Astronomy.'

Harry thought about that. 'How did families like yours, Neville, end among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, if that's so? According to old Cantankerous Nott, you couldn't have kept your bloodline pure without having married the odd first cousin.'

Neville, Ron, Ginny, Ernie, and Daphne broke out into laughter.

'That's because old Cantankerous Nott is among the biggest brown-nosers that ever walked on this earth,' Neville informed his friend with a broad grin. 'The Longbottoms, the Weasleys, the Macmillans and the Greengrasses technically don't belong to the Sacred Twenty-Eight. We have always married New Purebloods. My great-grandmother, for example, is the descendant of two Muggleborns. I know the Weasleys, the Macmillans, and the Greengrasses have similar cases in their family tree.'

The other four members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight nodded to that.

'Old Cantankerous, however, was a parvenu who wanted to curry favour with the ancient families. Thus why our names also appear on the list,' Neville concluded. 'Since we all have our share of Slytherin alumni in our families, no family ever contradicted him, but took the advantage it brought them.'

Hermione made a face as if she smelled something unpleasant at that statement.

Harry couldn't blame her; considering what had come out of old Cantankerous Nott's try to ingrain his family with the wizard nobility, the stance of the old families was questionable. Then again, they probably hadn't had an inkling what their stance would mean for future generations. However, no good could come out of the continuation of this topic, Harry decided as he saw the stormclouds brewing on Hermione's face, and the look she gave Neville.

'So, that's why Tori shouldn't date Fabian's younger brother?' he brought the conversation back to the original topic.

Daphne nodded at that. 'Yeah; mother will have my hide if she ever finds out that I didn't intervene. Though, I don't have the heart for that; they look so cute with each other. They won't probably last long, anyway; they are both still so young.'

Harry had his doubts about that as he watched the way his young sister-in-law and her boyfriend looked at each other. They had only eyes for each other, and were completely oblivious to the world around them. They were sixteen and seventeen, not too young to think about marriage by wizarding standards, Harry thought with a slight frown. Nothing good was going to come out of this if his parents-in-law ever got wind of it. He thought of the way Cyrus Greengrass had tried to threaten Daphne into submission when he found out about their marriage, and his frown got deeper. There was no way he would let that man abuse his little sister.

'Shall I go over and give them the big-brother-act?' he asked his wife under the cover of the conversation of the rest of the party.

Daphne gave him a thankful smile, but shook her head. 'That's sweet of you, Harry, but I will talk to her when we're back home. Too many objections against her relationship with Gideon will only provoke her, I'm afraid.'

'Yeah, she's as stubborn as you are,' Harry agreed, and winked at her.

Daphne poked her elbow in his side.

'Ouch!' he complained.

'Wimp,' she retorted with a grin.

'Quit abusing your husband, Daphne,' Morag deadpanned.

That had the whole table burst out into laughter, though Harry noticed that Hermione and Ginny's laughter seemed forced.

Their banter was interrupted by the waitress taking their orders. Over the meal they talked about the shopping they still had on their lists. It turned out there wasn't much left; an additional trip to the Magical Menagerie and Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick up treats for their familiars was all that was left to do.

'We'll probably still have time to slip onto Charing Cross Road and buy some new novels in that bookstore before we have to pick up Tori,' Daphne said to Harry.

'Sounds good to me,' he told her over his sandwich. 'I was planning to pick up the newest Dick Francis mystery for the train ride, anyway.'

'Since when are you voluntarily reading a book, Harry?' Hermione once more barged into their private conversation.

Harry rolled his eyes at his wife, and took a deep breath before he turned to his friend. 'Since Daphne introduced me to Muggle novels, Hermione,' he answered her question with more friendliness than he felt towards her that moment.

Hermione's eyebrows shot so high that they almost reached her bangs. 'Muggle _novels_?' she asked. The disapproval in her voice was evident.

This time, Harry didn't bother to hide his annoyance. 'Is there anything you don't like about me reading novels, Hermione?'

She scrunched up her nose. 'You should use your time to educate yourself, Harry.'

'Not all of us are as passionate about learning as you are, Hermione,' was all he answered to that, and turned back to his sandwich. He felt how Daphne briefly put her hand on his thigh, and gave her a thankful smile. Daphne was right; Hermione behaved as if he was her personal property, and she had the right to comment on all of his decisions. Of course she was used to that; in the past he had left the thinking to her too many times. He hoped that she would grow out of that old habit soon, just as he had grown out of the habit to ask Hermione for her help with the things he had to deal with nowadays.

He rather turned to Daphne these days. Though she was more knowledgeable in many areas concerning the wizarding world as he was, she merely let him know her thoughts on the topic, and left it to him to make the last decision. Until now, her advice had always been sound, and he had done good to follow her. She quickly had become his rock and the centre of his life. He bent towards his wife, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She turned her head and smiled at him. 'What was that for?'

'Just because,' he smiled back.

Neither he nor Daphne noticed the unfathomable glance Hermione gave them.

Soon after that, they set out for their last round of shopping. They went to the Magical Menagerie first, where Hermione, Ginny and Neville picked up treats for Crookshanks, Arnold and Trevor.

Daphne and Harry had no familiars to shop for, but entered the shop nevertheless to have a look at the animals on display.

Soon, Daphne's attention was caught by a litter of Kneazles. An adventurous grey one with huge blue eyes climbed out of the basket, and tried to climb up on Daphne's jeans. She swooped it up and held it between the palms of her hands, from where the tiny creature seemed to appraise her with unblinking eyes.

'Hey there,' she smiled at the kitten, mesmerized by its eyes.

'That's a feisty one you've got there, miss,' the shop owner told them over Neville's shoulder. 'Did you know that it's the Kneazle who picks the human, and not the other way round?'

The kitten rolled itself to a tiny ball in Daphne's hands, and began to purr. 'I easily believe that,' she smiled. She looked up to her husband. 'Harry, do you think…' she started.

Harry already pulled out his pouch. 'How much?' he asked the shop owner, an amused smile on his lips.

Daphne squealed with joy, and gave him a peck on the lips, mindful not to wake the tiny creature in her hands.

They added a carrier, a basket, some cat toys and enough cat food to their purchase to last them through the school year. Harry determinedly ignored the disapproving frown on Hermione's face. That day of shopping together had taught him she would disapprove of anything he did for his wife. Instead, he concentrated on the happiness in Daphne's eyes that warmed his heart.

She held the carrier with the little kitten as if it was the most precious thing on earth as they walked down the alley towards Eeylops Owl Emporium, and talked softly to it, not heeding the amused remarks and chuckles of her companions.

'Poor Harry, outrivalled by a tomcat,' Neville quipped.

'I don't think so,' Harry replied serenely. 'It's a girl, Neville.'

That caused a round of uproarious laughter. Even Hermione cracked a smile.

They had reached the shop over their banter. Ron and Ernie were the only ones who owned owls, and in typical male fashion they concluded their business in record time. Harry forbade himself to think of the times he used to shop treats for his beloved Hedwig there while he waited for his friends outside of the shop.

The group ambled back to the _Leaky Cauldron_ after that and parted ways.

Since Tori had not yet turned up in the pub, Harry and Daphne didn't walk to the apparition point on the side alley of Charing Cross Road immediately.

'Do you still want to look around in the Muggle book shop?' Harry asked his wife.

She cast a doubtful look at the carrier beside her. 'I'd love to, but I don't know whether Lizzie will like it.'

'Lizzie?' Harry asked, carefully keeping his amusement out of his voice. It was a rather strange name for the tiny Kneazle; he would rather have chosen it for a toad.

'Miss Elizabeth Bennet, or Lizzie for her friends,' Daphne replied in a haughty voice.

This time Harry didn't bother to hide his amusement, and broke out into laughter. 'You're impossible, kitty!'

That earned him a light slap, though Daphne joined his laughter. 'Don't call me kitty, you prat; at least not in front of a Kneazle.'

They were still laughing when a rather dishevelled looking Tori appeared. Her eyes, however, had a soft glow that made Harry and Daphne exchange an amused look.

Oblivious that her secret had been found out, Tori said, 'Gina and I have finally finished our shopping. Are you ready to head home? I'm knackered.'

Daphne regarded her younger sister with a knowing look. 'I'm sure that _Gina_ found today as exhausting as you did, Tori,' she said sweetly.

Uneasiness flickered up in Tori's eyes. ' What do you mean by that, Daffy?' she asked.

Daphne took her by the elbow and guided her out of the pub. 'We'll talk about that when we're home, Tori.'

Harry decided that his wife was more than up to the task to talk some sense into her younger sister, and that he would only be in the way of a very private conversation between the sisters. Instead of following them to the apparition point, he turned toward the bookstore, and enjoyed a quiet hour to himself, browsing for some books to pass the few idle hours he and Daphne would have during the upcoming school year. He chuckled quietly to himself as he paid for his purchase. Had someone one year ago told him that he would have overcome Voldemort, be married to Daphne Greengrass and voluntarily shop for books twelve months later, he probably would have asked him if he had hit the Firewhiskey, or been in Sybill Trelawney's company for too long.

His purchases in two bags the clerk at the counter had provided him with, he ambled to the apparition point. As soon as he turned around the corner into the side alley, he shrunk the bags with a wave of his hand, and shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.

Five minutes later, he was back at his home. He found his wife in their bedroom, packing their purchases into their Hogwarts trunks. 'How did the talk with Tori go?' he asked, and gave her a hug in greeting.

'Awful,' she replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. 'I feel like a wretch. She was so happy!'

Harry grimaced. 'Where is she?' he asked. It had been agreed that Tori should spend the last half week of the holidays with the young couple, and travel to platform 9 ¾ with them.

'In her room, and crying, I suppose,' his wife replied with a sigh. 'We can only hope that she'll come to her senses before father finds out.'

 **MY**

On Saturday afternoon, Harry apparated his wife and his sister-in-law to the hill behind the _Burrow_.

After her talk with Daphne, Tori had been pale, withdrawn, and spent long hours in her bedroom, probably writing long letters to Gideon, he supposed. The prospect of an afternoon of Quidditch, however, had perked her up. Harry hoped that this was a sign that Daphne was right, and that Tori's feelings for Gideon weren't as deep as he had feared as he watched them together at the café.

The Weasleys and Hermione were already on the Quidditch pitch. Ron, Ginny and George were on their brooms in the air, playing a game of tag, while Hermione sat in the grass in the shade of a tree, a thick tome in her lap, and obviously lost to the world around her.

'There you are, finally!' Ron exclaimed when they walked onto the Quidditch pitch. He directed his broom down to land beside them, and greeted them warmly.

All his reservations against Daphne, and by extension against Tori, seemed to have vanished, Harry thought with an inward chuckle. 'Are you happy to see us, or can't you just wait to try out my new broom?' he asked, grinning, as he slapped his friend on the back in greeting.

Ron had the decency to turn red, and even good-naturedly joined the laughter at his expense that followed his reaction.

Ginny and George had also landed their brooms, and Hermione had closed her book and came over. The greetings the four young women exchanged were perfectly polite, and Harry began to hope that there was a chance that things would straighten out between them eventually without hexes flying around.

Ron's eyes almost bulged out of his head when Harry pulled the shrunken Firebolt Extreme out of the pocket of his jeans and enlarged it. With a reverence that bordered worship he took the broom out of Harry's hands, not heeding the amused chuckles of his companions.

'Cor…!' Ron whispered, his hands gliding over the sleek, polished wood of the handle, and the unbidden thought if his best mate treated Hermione with the same tenderness came to Harry's mind.

A choked noise beside him made him look up, and when he saw the mirth in his wife's eyes, he knew her thoughts had wandered down the same path. He put his arm around her shoulder and bent towards her. 'Brat!' he whispered in her ear.

'As if you are any better!' she whispered back.

Luckily, nobody paid them heed. Ginny, George and Tori were almost as mesmerized by the broom as Ron, and Hermione watched her boyfriend with an indulgent look on her face that reminded Harry of a mother watching the fascination of her child with a new toy. He winced, hoping never to see that expression on Daphne's face when she looked at him.

Finally, Ron swung his leg over the handle and took off. They watched him as he raced across the pitch, whooping with joy. After what seemed an eternity, he had finally came down. He was breathless, his eyes beaming and he wasn't able to utter a coherent sentence.

Of course, Ginny, George and Tori also wanted to have their turn. For the four Quidditch aficionados nothing else than the broom mattered. He would probably have been the same, only a year ago, Harry thought as he watched his friends and sister-in-law. However, the experiences of the war, his marriage and the new obligations that had been thrust on him because of his heritage had changed his perspective. Flying still was one of his favourite pastimes, but it didn't range among the top priorities of his life anymore. He let his eyes wander around the Weasley Quidditch pitch. He had spent some of the happiest hours of his life here, but now he realised that he had outgrown this phase of his life. Another door of his childhood had closed irrevocably. Though, he had never had a childhood, so it was no use to mope, he reminded himself.

He felt a soft arm glide around his waist. Startled out of his morose thoughts, he looked in the smiling eyes of his wife. She blew him a kiss, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Maybe his childhood was over, Harry thought as he pulled her closer, but he had the distinct feeling that his life with Daphne had many wonderful surprises in store for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Many thanks to my incredibly fast beta, Haphne 24. All errors that remain are mine. I don't know how it happened, but somehow my author's notes disappeared on chapter 5, as I just discovered. Sorry, AJ, I didn't mean to ignore your wonderful help that is much appreciated!**

 **MY**

The gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express just puffed into the station when Harry, Daphne and Astoria entered platform 9 ¾ on the first of September.

'Remind me, why we had to be here this early, Daffy?' Astoria yawned. 'We still have two hours until the departure of the train.'

'Harry wants to make sure that all Muggleborns will find their way on the platform and I want to make sure that all first years sit together, preferably near the head boy compartment, so that we can have an eye on them during the train ride,' Daphne replied. She walked beside Harry, her left hand entwined with his, while she held the carrier with Miss Elizabeth Bennet - or Lizzie for her friends - in her right.

Harry had shrunken their trunks and carried his and Daphne's trunk in his backpack, together with a shrunken picnic hamper Breezy had insisted to pack for them, and their robes for the Welcoming Feast.

'I think you're the first head boy and head girl who spared a thought on the first years, especially how the Muggle firsties will get on the train,' Tori commented, as they entered the waggon, at the front of the train with the compartment for the prefect's meeting, and the head boy compartment right beside it. 'I never thought you'd be such a mother-hen, Daffy!'

'No firstie is going through the panic I had when I went to Hogwarts for the first time, if I can help it,' Harry replied, instead of his wife. 'Hagrid didn't tell me how to get onto the platform, and I almost missed the train because of that if I hadn't met the Weasleys, who showed me the way.'

'McGonagall expects us to look out for the firsties, especially in the light of the happenings of last year,' Daphne added. 'That's easier if I keep them close to me.'

'I still think you're both exaggerating,' Tori mumbled, albeit in a low voice. They had been through this discussion a couple of times during the last days.

'You know our reasons, Tori. You don't have to accept them, but you'll do your part; that new, shiny badge on your sweater isn't there just for show,' Harry told her. His words sounded final, and Tori nodded, giving him a respectful side glance.

When Harry opened the door of the waggon, she went to Daphne's side. 'I had no idea he could be that resolute under all his easygoing ways,' she whispered to her sister. 'He's always so amiable.'

Daphne snorted to that, but didn't comment.

Harry pushed open the sliding door to the head boy compartment, and stopped in his tracks. 'Wow!' He whistled. Tori and Daphne crowded beside him to have a look.

The head boy compartment surely was one of a kind. Thanks to magic, it was bigger than the average compartment on the train, with deeper and broader seats cushioned in thick, red plush, matching the engine of the train. Red and gold brocade curtains could be drawn in front of the windows, to shield out the sun or curious onlookers in the aisle. The highly polished brass trunk racks gleamed like gold. The Hogwarts coat of arms, stitched on silk, adorned both walls of the compartment above the comfortable plush seats.

'Wow! Can I sit with you?' Tori asked.

Daphne shook her head while she handed her husband the carrier with her pet to put it on the rack. 'You'll put your things in a compartment at the end of this waggon, as we discussed back home, and then you'll take up your post on this side of the barrier to welcome the firsties and show them to this waggon.'

Tori pouted, but didn't contradict. With a small wave at her sister and brother-in-law, she walked further down the aisle towards the end of the waggon.

Harry put his backpack beside the carrier, and turned to his wife. 'I'll take up my post on the Muggle side in front of the barrier. Do you mind if I send Ron and Hermione to sit with us, together with Morag, Ernie, Terry, Lisa and Neville?'

'I could do without Granger, but go ahead,' Daphne told him as she gave him a small peck in goodbye. 'At least the Weasel seems to have accepted our marriage.'

Harry chuckled. 'Yeah, and it didn't take much more than you giving me a racing broom. However, we don't have to ask anyone to sit with us. Why don't we keep the compartment to ourselves and put it to good use?' He wriggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

'You wish!' she replied with a snort, and slapped him lightly on the arm. 'Get going, you prat, the first students will arrive soon.'

'Oh well, a guy can dream,' he replied, giving her a peck on the cheek, and then walked out onto the platform, her laughter following him.

Tori had already taken up her post at the barrier, but she was not alone. She almost disappeared in the arms of Gideon Vaisey.

Harry walked up to them, not bothering to mask the sound of his steps; the young couple was completely lost in the joy of their reunion that they didn't hear him approaching. He cleared his throat, but had to repeat himself once more until they finally let go of each other, both red in the face. He felt rather paternal when he looked at them with raised eyebrows, hardly suppressing his laughter. Though he understood the reasoning of the old families to frown on unions between close cousins, he thought that being fifth cousins was not such a big deal to warrant Tori and Gideon to break up, especially in the light that marriages between even first cousins were legal in the magical world. However, Tori was still minor, and given the way their father had treated Daphne as a piece of merchandise, he probably already had set up a similar arrangement for Tori. Harry sensed a lot of trouble because of that in the immediate future for his sister-in-law, and secretly was determined to help her, Pureblood customs be damned.

'Harry, this is my boyfriend, Gideon Vaisey,' Tori told him in a rather nervous voice.

'I gathered that much,' he replied with a straight face, and shook hands with the sixth year Slytherin prefect.

To his credit, Gideon kept his composure. 'It's a honour to meet you, Potter,' he said.

'Likewise,' Harry replied. 'I know I should give you two the big brother speech, but I rather leave that to Daphne since she's far better at that than I.' To his amusement, Tori and Gideon both blanched at his words. He gave them a small wave, and walked through the barrier to the Muggle side.

He didn't have to wait long until the first first year appeared; it was a small girl, with long, dark braids, and wearing round, framed glasses. She was accompanied by a woman in her early thirties. She pushed a trolley with the typical, huge wizarding trunk, but had no familiar with her.

'The entrance must be somewhere around here,' he heard the mother say. 'Professor Sprout said it's a barrier between platform nine and platform ten. That has to be that wall over there, but I have no idea how you're supposed to get through, Cassie.'

Harry got up from the bench he had been waiting on, and walked towards mother and daughter. 'Good morning. I couldn't help to overhear your conversation. You're a new Hogwarts student, aren't you? My name is Harry Potter; I'm the current head boy. I'll help you to get through the barrier and onto platform 9 ¾.'

A look of relief crossed over the mother's face. 'Thank you, Mr Potter, that's very kind of you. I'm Amanda Melkinthorpe, and this is my daughter Cassandra, though she prefers Cassie. I was starting to worry when I couldn't find an entrance. The instructions Professor Sprout gave us were rather vague. She said Cassie should push her trolley through the barrier, but how can she possibly get through a solid wall?' She put her hand on her daughter's shoulder in a protective gesture, and gave him a worried look. 'This is all so new to us. My husband and I had no idea that Cassie is a witch, until Professor Sprout visited us in June and told us - but of course that explains a lot.'

Harry let out a small chuckle. 'Has she worried you with her accidental magic when she was younger?'

'You have no idea!' Mrs. Melkinthorpe exclaimed, a look of comical despair on her face. 'The stories I could tell you...! Looking back, it's really hilarious, but my husband and I didn't think it a laughing matter when it happened.'

Harry grinned. 'I can imagine. I'm Muggle raised myself, and had a couple of spectacular outbursts when I was a kid that freaked my relatives to no end. Once, I ended on the roof of the school kitchen and I still have no idea how I got there.'

They laughed; then Mrs. Melkinthorpe gave him an appraising look. 'So, you're also a wizard? You don't look like one. Professor Sprout was very nice when she visited us, but she was surely dressed strange. You, on the other hand, look absolutely normal.' She motioned at his outfit with one hand.

Since everyone had to access platform 9 ¾ through the Muggle station, the official dress code for the beginning of the train ride was Muggle clothes. In accordance to that, Harry had dressed in black jeans and a matching polo shirt that morning, with an emerald green knitted sweater worn over it. The only magical article he wore was a pair of stylish black dragon skin boots. 'Well, most wizards and witches avoid the Muggle world. They know what Muggle clothes are, but they have no idea what kind of Muggle clothes are appropriate. I was Muggle raised, so I don't have these problems.'

'Oh, I see,' Mrs Melkinthorpe replied. She turned to her daughter. 'Well, pumpkin, I've got to go now, or I'll be late for my shift. You know that Professor Sprout said that you can send letters to us, though we won't be able to write back as long as we don't have our own owl. That's impossible; you know how our landlord is. So, please, write a lot. Dad and I'll think of you every minute.' She took her daughter in her arms and gave her a tight hug. Though she kept her face calm, Harry saw in her eyes how much it cost her to send her child away into that strange magical world, with no means of contact, and having to hope she'll at least get a letter from her child every now and then. She dropped a last kiss on her daughter's head, and then walked away quickly.

For a moment, Cassie looked as if she was going to cry. Then she squared her shoulders, and turned to Harry. 'Alright, let's get going.'

Harry smiled at her. 'It's nothing to be afraid of. Just push your trolley straight to the barrier, and don't stop walking. If you're afraid, you might run. The barrier will let magical people through. There are two prefects waiting on the other side of the barrier, Astoria and Gideon. They'll help you to get your things on the train, and will show you to your compartment. We thought it best to put the first years together during this ride, so that you already get to know each other.'

Cassie nodded to that. Her hand grabbed the handle of the trolley in a dead grip that made her knuckles stand out white. She took a deep breath, and then ran towards the barrier. The next second, she was gone.

Students and their parents arrived in short succession; Harry exchanged greetings and handshakes with most of them. Many parents expressed their gratitude for his victory over Voldemort, but he also received a lot of congratulations on his marriage. That would have made him squirm with embarrassment only one year ago, but now he managed to deal with the admiration, curiosity and well wishes in a calm and polite manner. He directed Ernie and Morag, and twenty minutes later Neville, Luna and Dean to the head boy compartment to sit with them. The latter, however, declined. They had already promised Seamus to sit with him and the Patil twins during the ride.

He helped five more excited Muggleborn first years to get through the barrier. Five more times, he listened to the concerned admonitions of Muggle parents to write regularly, because they couldn't get into contact with their magical children over the school year for lack of an own owl.

Lisa and Terry were among the last students to arrive, and Harry also directed them to the head boy compartment. He then looked at his watch; there were only five minutes left until the train would depart, and he considered leaving his post and getting back on board, so that he wouldn't miss the departure. There had been no sign of Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and he wondered if this time they were going to miss the train. The thought had barely formed in his head, when two redheads and a bushy-haired girl sped towards him. Ron pushed a trolley that was loaded with three trunks, and the carriers of Arnold, Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon balancing precariously on top of them.

Harry shook his head as they reached him. 'Are you adult wizards and witches, or what? Have you never thought of shrinking your trunks and carrying them in your pocket?'

The three were still too out of breath to comment on that, and shot him dirty glares instead. He walked through the barrier with them and helped them get their luggage on the train, barely managing to jump on the train before the conductor gave the sign for the departure. The train began to move as soon as the door closed behind him.

'You're welcome to sit in our compartment,' he invited his friends.

Ginny shook her head. 'Thank you, but I'd rather sit alone than with Greengrass,' she snapped.

'Suit yourself,' Harry shrugged. He had been right: Ginny had pulled off the velvet gloves as soon as she was out of the influence of her parents and her older siblings. His prediction of Ron and Hermione's reaction to her attitude had also been correct: his friends exchanged a look, but made no attempt to call Ginny out for her words.

Ginny stomped off, dragging her trunk behind her, and Harry led his friends to the head boy compartment. On their way there, he had brief glances into the other compartments.

Luna and Dean shared a compartment with Seamus and the Patil twins. As the three friends passed, they were laughing about something Seamus had said, and paid them no heed.

Harry let out a soft groan when he saw Nott and Parkinson sitting stiffly next to each other a couple of compartments further down the aisle; no other students had joined them. Harry wasn't surprised by that: the look on their faces gave the basilisk a run for its money. A match made in hell, if he ever saw one, Harry thought with an inward shudder, and was glad that Nott didn't acknowledge him so that he could pass their compartment without the exchange of pleasantries that were expected when heads of wizarding houses met. Daphne had drilled the behavioural codex of the Pureblood circles into him during the holidays, so that he wouldn't mess up at the wizengamot.

'What are you groaning about?' Hermione asked.

He jerked his head to the compartment they had just passed. 'I didn't expect these two to return to Hogwarts; I could've done without them.'

'I don't think they'll give you much grief this year, Harry,' Hermione replied. 'Of course, it's a pity Nott wasn't put on trial like Malfoy, or went on the run like Goyle. After the war, the Slytherins should've lost all their standing at Hogwarts and faded into insignificance.'

Harry was taken aback at the venom in her voice, though he couldn't blame her. All the ridicule Hermione had to endure from the Slytherins during their years at Hogwarts must have left its mark. Heck, he was still bearing the scars from all the years of "Harry Hunting", physically as well as emotionally.

They had reached the last waggon before the engine during their talk. As she had been instructed, Tori had settled into the last compartment of that waggon and Gideon was with her. No surprise there, Harry thought with an inward grin. They talked to what seemed to be other prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and waved at him as he passed.

The next couple of compartments were occupied by first years. The class was huge this year: due to the war and the mandatory repetition of the last school year the first class was twice as big as usual. The small faces of the children looked excited, yet uncomfortable, as they tried to get to know each other, and they talked in subdued voices. Harry had no doubt that would change rapidly as soon as the ice was broken, and surreptitiously set up a couple of silent and wandless Silencing Charms while they passed the compartments. There was no need for him and his friends to become deaf during the train ride.

Finally, they reached the head boy compartment, and he pushed the sliding door open.

Terry and Ernie sat next to the window, facing each other. Their wives sat beside them. Lisa had already made herself comfortable; she had kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs on the cushioned bench, while she leaned against her new husband. As usual when they met, she and Daphne were talking animatedly, with Morag mostly listening, and throwing in her two Knuts now and then. Daphne sat on the same bench as Terry and Lisa, albeit next to the door, while Neville sat beside Morag.

When the door opened, Daphne turned her head around. 'There you are! I was worried you'd missed the train, Harry.'

He laughed while he shoved Hermione's trunk into the compartment. 'I managed to jump on the train in the last second. I swear, you Weasleys will be the death of me,' he threw over the shoulder at Ron.

Ron laughed in reply. 'You know we never manage to be on time, mate. Can't break with cherished Weasley traditions, can we?' He bent down and helped Harry hauling his and Hermione's trunk onto the rack.

Harry noticed with some interest that they were the only trunks up there; apparently all his other friends were smart enough to shrink their trunks and carry them in their pockets. Only the carriers with Lisa and Morag's cats and Ernie's owl sat on the rack, next to the carrier of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

If Hermione and Ron were surprised to find Lisa, Terry, Ernie and Morag in their compartment, next to Neville, they didn't let on, but greeted everyone with perfect politeness, Daphne included. Then Hermione gave Harry a pointed look. 'We have to go to the prefect's meeting.'

Harry had just plopped down on the bench and made himself comfortable next to his wife, putting his arm around her shoulder. He grimaced at his friend's words. 'Must we?'

Daphne gave him a soft push and stood up. 'Come on, lazybones. The sooner we start, the sooner it's over.'

Under the laughter of his friends, a grumbling Harry got to his feet, and followed Daphne out of the compartment. Hermione, Ron, and Ernie were right behind him. When they were on the aisle, he felt Hermione tug at the sleeve of his sweater and hold him back. He let Ron and Ernie pass, and then turned around to her. 'What's the matter, Hermione?'

She produced a thick roll of parchment out of her beaded bag and tried to shove it into his hand. 'I've prepared the meeting for you, Harry. You need to have an order of business, and also need to tell the other prefects on what you'll focus during your year as head boy.'

He looked down on the roll of parchment without taking it. 'I'm aware of my duties as head boy, Hermione; Professor McGonagall saw to that. Though I appreciate your efforts, they were not necessary. Daphne and I are well prepared for this meeting and have worked out a couple of things we'd like to do during the upcoming school year, in close coordination with the headmistress, of course.'

About a dozen of mixed emotions seemed to flicker across Hermione's face at his words, with hurt, disappointment, and confusion being dominating, but once again there was that well concealed expression on her face he couldn't decipher. It was there, and in the next moment it was gone, leaving him uneasy and troubled. However, Hermione was one of his oldest friends. He understood what was making her act like she did; it was how she was, and she was used to do the thinking and preparing for him. While he could understand that she was sad and disappointed that he didn't turn to her for help and guidance anymore, she needed to understand that he had grown out of that; the sooner, the better.

He put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her lightly. 'Look, Hermione, I know that you're used to do these things for me, but it's about time for me to stop running to you with all my problems. I'm a big boy now, and with Tom not breathing down my neck anymore, I actually find it easy to do things for myself for a change. However, you're still one of my closest friends, and there are few I trust as much as I do trust you; I promise that I'll ask you for your help if I find myself out of my depth.'

She looked up to him, the corners of her mouth quivering, and her eyes brimming with tears. 'You've changed, Harry, and I'm not sure that it's a good change; it's all _her_ fault!'

Once again he was taken aback by the venom in her voice. Though, he couldn't deny some truth in her words. While a lot of his change was to be expected after he got rid of the threat he had been under all his life long, his marriage to Daphne certainly had accelerated that progress. Without Daphne in the picture, he would undoubtedly still turn to Hermione for advice. However, he had no idea how to reply to this.

She didn't leave him time to come up with an adequate reply, but threw her arms around him and hugged him passionately.

He brought his arms up and patted her back in what he hoped was a brotherly manner. 'Now, there, Hermione,' he mumbled, without a clue how he was supposed to get out of that.

Daphne chose that moment to stick her head out of the door of the prefect's compartment. 'Are you ready to join us?' she asked. When her eyes fell on him and Hermione in a tight hug, her eyebrows rose until they almost reached her hairline. Her eyes darkened, and the look she gave him didn't bode well for him. When Harry shot her a helpless look over Hermione's head, her sense of humour got the better of her, much to his relief. The corners of her mouth began to twitch, the storm clouds vanished from her eyes, and she returned into the compartment, closing the door behind herself.

The sound of the closing door brought Hermione back to her senses, and she withdrew from him. 'I'm sorry,' she said with averted eyes. Her voice sounded choked with tears.

Harry gave her a last, comforting pat on the shoulder, and then walked past her into the compartment. Hermione followed only seconds later. She closed the door behind her, and then took her place beside Ron at the oval table that dominated the magically enlarged compartment.

Harry sat down at the lower end of the table and nodded to his wife to begin the meeting.

Daphne rose from her place at the head of the table, below the chalkboard. They had previously decided to leave most of the talking to her. After all, the better integration of the first years was her idea, Harry had argued, not to mention that a lot of the prefects would probably be too dazed by his fame as the Vanquisher-of-You-No-Poo to listen to his words. His wife had almost choked with laughter at this new moniker, but agreed, much to his relief. Even though he eventually learned to accept his fame, he still hated the attention that came with it.

'Welcome to the first prefect meeting of the new school year,' Daphne opened the meeting. 'My name is Daphne Potter, for those who don't know me yet, and I'm this year's head girl. That handsome guy over there is Harry Potter, this year's head boy, and my husband, by the way.' Amused chuckles rolled around the table as she winked at Harry, who had blushed at her words.

'You're probably as amazed to see us as this year's head boy and head girl as we were when we got the letter. However, -'

'Actually, I'm not surprised,' Anthony Goldstein interrupted her. 'At least not in Harry's case; it would've been political suicide for McGonagall to choose anyone else than him after all he's done for us.' The other prefects nodded to that.

Gideon Vaisey cleared his throat. 'You should've been a prefect from fifth year on, Daphne. Everyone in Slytherin knew that your grades were much better than Parkinson's, and that you actually cared about the younger students, instead of flaunting your authority around like that bitch. It was only due to Snape's bias to the Death Eater children in our house that he skipped you.'

That earned him some amazed glances, but also approving nods from Padma Patil, Susan Bones, Anthony Goldstein and Ernie Macmillan. Hermione let her eyes swerve out of the window, pretending not to listen, while Ron shifted in his seat uncomfortably, casting a guarded glance at his friend and fellow Gryffindor prefect.

Ernie gave his cousin-in-law a disarming smile. 'In short, none of us has objections against you and Harry being head girl and head boy, Daphne.' The other prefects clapped.

With some relief, Harry noticed that Hermione had joined the applause, though she regarded Daphne with an unfathomable expression in her eyes. He sighed inwardly, wondering how long it would take his friend to accept his wife.

'Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,' Daphne smiled when the clapping died down. 'Well, Headmistress McGonagall told Harry and me she made a political statement when she choose us. She wants to show the school that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin can make a good team, to quote her words. That brings us straight to Harry and my agenda.' She paused, and took a sip of water from the glass in front of her.

'After the horrible war, and especially the horrible year we all had to go through at Hogwarts we want to reunite the houses. We -'

This time, she was interrupted by a huff from Hermione. 'That's rich, coming from you, Greengrass. You're a Slytherin; _you'd_ know nothing about the torture the other students had to endure from _your_ house.'

For the first time in their young marriage, Harry witnessed his wife losing her composure. She blanched, and gaped at Hermione, obviously at a loss for words.

It was Susan Bones who came to her rescue. 'Shut up, Granger. You were not there last year; you know nothing. You have no idea how the few neutral Slytherins were pressured by the Death Eater wannabes in our year. They had to endure the Torture Curse being practised on them as much as we did, not to mention the many detentions they got with the Carrows for their parent's refusal to join V-Voldemort.'

Tori, Gideon, and the two other Slytherin prefects nodded to that, and even some prefects from the other houses murmured in agreement.

Harry gaped at his wife. He had had no idea; they had briefly talked about some of his past adventures, but it was a touchy subject, and they had certainly never talked about her year at Hogwarts during the reign of the Carrows.

Thanks to her strict Pureblood upbringing, Daphne regained her composure almost immediately. She cast Susan a thankful smile, and then went on introducing her agenda, ignoring Hermione.

'We thought it best to begin with the first years. They don't have horrible memories of the century long feud. If we want the house rivalry to cease, except for Quidditch, of course -' That earned her a round of laughter. With a wink, she went on. 'Well, we have to show the young ones that the other houses are just like them: young witches and wizards who want to learn about magic, and who are looking ahead to seven wonderful school years. To achieve that, Harry and I thought we should begin with a first year orientation after the first day of classes. We've worked out plans for a kind of scavenger hunt. It should help the first years to find their way around Hogwarts, but since we divide them into teams of four, with one member from each of the houses, it should also help them to overcome the house boundaries. As you see, the tasks are composed that they have to work together to solve them.' She passed the plans she and Harry had made for the first year orientation around the table.

For a while, no sound was heard, except for the rustle of parchment, and an amused snort every now and then. Anthony Goldstein raised his head. 'Who came up with the tasks? They are hilarious.'

'Most of them are Harry's ideas. I don't know the castle half as well as he does,' Daphne replied.

That earned Harry a respectful look from the Ravenclaw seventh year prefect. 'I've been at Hogwarts for seven years, and I had no idea about that passage. It's damned useful if you have to get from the Transfiguration corridor to the Potions lab in time. It would have spared me a lot of detentions with Snape for being late, had I known about it.'

Another wave of chuckles rolled around the table.

'I don't know how Headmistress McGonagall will react to group after group of firsties turning up in her office, all wanting to count the number of portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses,' Padma giggled, shaking her head.

Daphne and Harry exchanged a grin. 'She agreed to it,' they said unison.

'Of course she did,' Dennis Creevey, the fifth year prefect, chimed in. 'She's always had a weak spot for Harry.'

That caused another round of chuckles.

'I think it's a brilliant idea,' Ernie said, and put the papers on the table. 'You've put a lot of thought and work into this, Daphne and Harry.'

The other prefects nodded in agreement.

Harry was not surprised that Hermione was the only one to raise objections. 'The orientation is supposed to begin right after lunch break, and will last until the beginning of study time. While I know that the first years usually have free afternoons, that certainly doesn't pertain to the upper classes. Quite a lot of us will probably be in class during that time, and not able to help you.'

Daphne shook her head. 'Headmistress McGonagall agreed that those prefects who want to help are excused from classes.'

'Cool!' Ron exclaimed, while Hermione gave her a look as if she had just made an indecent proposal. 'We can't afford to miss classes! After all, this is our N.E.W.T. year,' she exclaimed.

'Speak for yourself, Granger; I'm in,' Susan Bones said, and most of the other prefects voiced their agreement.

Daphne gave Harry a small nod, and sat down. He rose from his seat to conclude the meeting. 'According to the revised rules of conduct for Hogwarts students, there will be prefect's meetings on each Thursday and attendance is mandatory. We will introduce the rest of our plans on the first meeting. Here is the schedule we worked out for the patrols on the train and at Hogwarts for today and tomorrow. We'll work out a new schedule on Thursday, after everyone knows their schedules.' He handed out another sheet of parchment around the table. 'Are there anymore questions? No? Good, then this meeting is concluded.'

He waited until the prefects had left the room, chattering and laughing.

Hermione stopped at the threshold and looked back. 'Are you coming with us, Harry?'

He shook his head. 'I have to talk to Daphne. We have the first rounds of patrol, anyway.'

She didn't look pleased about his answer, but left and closed the door behind her.

Harry stepped to his wife, who was tidying up the compartment, vanishing forgotten sheets of parchment and glasses of water with a swish of her wand. She seemed to be very busy, and didn't look at him. Harry knew it was an act, and he stepped beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him.

'Why didn't you tell me that the Carrows tortured you, Daphne?'

Her eyes went dark with emotion, and she averted her gaze. 'It was nothing of importance. After all, they did it to everyone who didn't agree with their view of the world. Others suffered more from them than I did. Neville, for example, or Finnegan. Anyway, they didn't dare to really harm me. I'm a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, that protected me from the worst. They didn't want to spill my precious pure blood, and of course they needed me to bring many wonderful Pureblood babies into the world that were supposed to become Death Eaters and to secure the eternal reign of the Dark Wanker.' Her voice was full of bitterness, and Harry felt her tremble under his hand.

'Hadn't you overcome that monster and hadn't my bastard of a betrothed been killed that night, I'd probably already be married to him right now, with a baby on the way, since it was my duty to give the Noble House of Nott an heir as soon as possible.' She looked up at him, a strange light in her eyes. 'You'll never know how happy I am that you came into my life.' She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Harry felt something wet trickling down his throat, and found himself for the second time that morning comforting a crying witch. However, there was no trace of helplessness in his eyes or awkwardness in his movements when he sat down in the next chair and pulled her on his lap. 'Shh, it's alright, love,' he murmured into her ear, stroking her back. 'They are both dead and can't harm you anymore. Nobody will force you to become a mother if you're not ready for that. Though, I'm sure that Mrs Weasley at least will try. I didn't like the look in her eyes when she pointed out the additional two dozen of hands of the family clock to you.'

That elicited a rather watery laugh from her. 'Idiot!' she chuckled.

'Yeah, but I'm the only idiot you'll ever have, so you'd better put up with me,' he replied, and kissed her.

She raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but the haunted look had vanished. 'Thank you for being there for me, Harry,' she whispered.

'Anytime, love,' he replied, and kissed her again.

Her eyes still betrayed that she had cried, but a Glamour Charm took care of that, and she slid from his lap. She grabbed his hand and hauled him up from his seat. 'Let's do our rounds, Harry. With a little luck we'll get through without problems and will get to spend the rest of the train ride with our friends.'

They left the compartment, holding hands, and turned towards the compartments with the firsties. No sound could be heard from there.

Daphne frowned. 'Why are they so quiet? That's not normal. I hope nothing has happened to them.' Her voice sounded alarmed.

'That would be my fault,' Harry hurried to explain. 'I thought they'd become a little noisy as soon as the ice was broken between them, and cast Silencing Charms on their compartments.'

'You did what?' His wife gave him an incredulous look, which he replied with a sheepish grin. She shook her head at him. 'Harry James Potter, you're impossible! What if something had happened to the firsties? We wouldn't have been able to hear their cries then. Are you also going to cast Silencing Charms on our children one day when they are noisy?'

'That's completely different,' he defended himself, but only got one of Daphne's patented Ice-Queen-stares in return. 'Sorry,' he amended, and cancelled his charms with a wave of his hand.

The noise that assaulted their ears was deafening. Ten compartments full of energetic firsties could produce an amazing racket, Harry thought.

Daphne gave him a horrified look. 'Uh - maybe you should put up your Silencing Charms again, Harry.'

He complied with a broad grin on his face. 'Your wish is my command, my dear.'

Daphne let out an audible sigh of relief when the racket was extinguished by his Silencing Charms, though she determinedly ignored his smug grin. She opened the door to the first compartment with firsties. 'Everything alright here?'

Eight heads turned towards her. Harry counted three boys and five girls, among them Cassie. When she noticed him, she gave him a small wave. Her eyes beamed, and she whispered something to the girl beside her, whose eyes got round when she looked at Harry.

Harry wondered briefly what important pre-teen secrets just had been shared, but then decided he probably didn't want to know. However, he was happy to see that all traces of homesickness Cassie had shown when her mother walked away were gone.

Daphne concluded her short talk to the firsties and walked to the next compartment, where she repeated the process. It took them more than half an hour until they had visited all firsties.

Lucky for them, everything was quiet on the rest of the train. Daphne frowned when she saw Tori sitting next to Gideon, but passed the compartment with a smile and a small nod to both of them.

The curtains of Nott and Parkinson's compartment had been closed shut. Daphne stopped in her tracks and raised her hand to knock at the compartment door. 'I think we should make sure that no hanky-panky is going on inside there.'

Harry grabbed her wrist before she could knock. 'I wouldn't do that. That's Nott and Parkinson's compartment. Do you really want to barge in on them?'

'Ugh, Merlin, no!'

The horrified expression on Daphne's face was comical to watch, and Harry couldn't help himself: he burst out laughing. Daphne joined his laughter. Their hilarity abruptly ended when they heard noises from within the compartment. It sounded as if someone was going to open the door and look who was laughing their arse off in front of the compartment. Harry, still holding his wife by the wrist, dragged her with him down the aisle with great presence of mind. Laughing, they ran down the corridor. Their hilarity even increased when they heard Nott's annoyed voice shouting something after them.

They didn't stop until they reached the end of the waggon. Harry closed the sliding door behind him, and slumped with his back against it, pulling Daphne to his chest.

'Merlin, kitty, you're killing me! That look on your face was just priceless.'

He felt Daphne shake in his arms with helpless laughter. 'I hope we interrupted something _interesting_ ,' she wheezed, the malicious gleam in her eyes telling Harry why exactly the Sorting Hat had put her in the House of Snakes, hadn't he already known that before.

'Oh my, you're an evil bitch,' he replied, his lips twitching with mirth. 'Remind me to pity Nott - some day, when I have nothing else to do.'

It took some time until they had themselves back under control. Not daring to look at each other, because that would set them off again, they continued their round in the last waggon of the train.

Only few of the compartments were occupied. In one of them sat Ginny Weasley, all by herself. As she saw Daphne and Harry approaching, she rose and opened the sliding door.

'May I have a word with you, Harry - in private?' she asked, perfectly polite.

Harry exchanged a look with his wife. He had the distinct feeling that he couldn't deny Ginny's wish. It must have been humiliating for Ginny that he got married to a girl he had just met on the same day he broke up with her. Not to mention that she had fancied herself to be in love with him since her early childhood. She had taken his first break-up with her hard; on the second time he probably broke her heart. The look in Daphne's eyes told him that she had similar thoughts, so he followed Ginny into her compartment.

The moment the sliding door shut behind them, Ginny draw the curtains on the windows to the aisle shut with a flick of her wand, and set up a Privacy Ward with another flick. The next moment she flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck, and kissed him that his teeth hurt.

He staggered from the impact of her assault, and fell back on the bench behind him. Involuntarily, he grabbed Ginny by the hips to prevent her from crushing him. His touch made her moan, and she tried to deepen the kiss. By now in desperate need for air, Harry reached behind his neck, and forced her arms off. Then he shoved her away.

'What the heck are you doing, Ginny?'

'I'm trying to push through the enchantments that bitch put on you, love,' she beamed at him. 'You know that you love me!'

He huffed, messing up his hair with both hands in exasperation. 'Ginny, I broke up with you! That should be an indication that I don't love you.'

She wasn't deterred by that. 'Yes, you did, but you didn't mean it. I know you were miffed that I tried to make you take me to that party. Look, I apologise for that. I don't know what's the big deal with that. After all, you're going out with Greengrass all the time.'

He narrowed her eyes at her. 'I broke up with you for good, Ginny, and I meant it. Even if I hadn't married Daphne, there's no way I'd ever have returned to you. Let me tell you, there's a big difference between making me go out because you want to parade me around and making me go out because you want to be with friends and family.'

He stood up and walked to the door.

'You son of a bitch!' she screamed behind him, just as he pushed the sliding door open. The next second he felt a spell hitting him in his back. White-hot, blinding pain erupted from his nose. His eyes watered, and he doubled over. Tiny bats flapped around his face, scratching his skin, and he clapped his hands on his face to protect his eyes, while he stumbled out onto the corridor.

He was faintly aware of the sound of spellfire sizzling over his back. He heard Ginny scream, and then the sliding door banged shut.

'Finite Incantatem!' he heard Daphne's voice.

The next second, the bats vanished, and the pain ceased. Harry let out a sigh of relief, though he still was doubled over, his hands covering his face. His nose bled freely, and his eyes still watered. He heard the door of another compartment open, and then felt Daphne grab him by the elbows and guide him into the compartment.

'Episkey!'

The nosebleed stopped. Harry opened his eyes and gave his wife a weak smile. 'Thank you,' he whispered.

She gave him a terse smile in return, and weaved her wand across him yet another time, cleaning his clothes from the blood and the mucus Ginny's Bat-Bogey-Hex had caused.

He leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed, and tried to regain his composure. 'I hate being hexed in the back,' he finally said with a shaky laugh.

'I imagine,' Daphne agreed. Her voice sounded detached. 'It's something you'd expect from a Slytherin, but never from a brave and chivalrous Gryffindor.'

Harry shrugged. 'I'm not so sure. I know about a lot of Gryffindors who'd have done well in Slytherin. Take me, for example, but also Percy, the twins, Ginny, and even Hermione. Both girls are sneaky and have a ruthless streak.'

He opened his eyes and looked at his wife. She sat on the bench opposite of them, regarding him with an unreadable expression.

'Are you going to tell me what happened between you and your two exes this morning?' she asked.

'Merlin, yes,' he exclaimed, suddenly understanding her reservation. 'Don't worry, I've done nothing to endanger our magic. They both threw themselves at me.' He proceeded to tell her about his encounters with Hermione and Ginny.

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly when he had finished. 'Poor Harry; you really had a trying morning. Though I don't blame the Weaslette; I'd have done the same in her shoes.'

'Yeah,' he admitted with a frown, failing to acknowledge the humour in his situation. 'She reacted exactly like I thought she would. Let's hope she got it out of her system. Ginny's ire is easily provoked, but it usually vanishes as easily as soon as she has let off steam.'

Daphne nodded to that, although her eyes remained clouded. 'I'm more concerned about Granger, though; she's not the type of woman to give up easily. It didn't help that you tried to comfort her this morning, Harry.'

'She's one of my oldest friends,' he defended himself.

'True, but remember what I told you about sending out the wrong signals, love.'

That silenced him. He was still in a subdued and pensive mood when they walked back to their compartment.

His mood didn't get better when they joined their friends. Lisa and Hermione were openly glaring at each other, while Terry had his arms wrapped around his wife's upper body as if he was holding her back from assaulting Hermione. Ron's eyes were as red as beacons; however, the unhappy look in his eyes told Harry that it was not because of his infamous Weasley temper, but that something must have happened that had shaken up his best mate. Neville's eyes darted between the two witches; he had a frown on his face, and his hand on the pocket where he kept his wand, while Ernie and Morag watched the scene with worry.

Neville's head turned towards them when they entered the compartment. He forced a smile on his face. 'There you are! We were about to send a search party after you. You took your time with the patrols, didn't you?' He winked at them.

'I bet there are some cozy, unoccupied compartments on the train,' Terry chimed in.

Daphne picked up the cue. 'Get your mind out of the gutter, Boot,' she fired back while she sat down and pulled Harry beside her.

The laughter that followed her remark sounded strained, but helped to break the tension.

Ron did his bit to clear away the last tension. 'Have you seen the lady with the lunch cart on your way back, mate? I'm starving!'

'That's nothing new, Ron,' Neville replied with a roll of his eyes, causing a new round of chuckles.

'She's still at the end of the train,' Harry said. 'However, our elf insisted to pack a picnic hamper for Daphne and me. Since I know your bottomless pit of a stomach, Ron, I told her to pack enough for all of us.' He pulled his backpack off the rack and pulled the shrunken picnic hamper out of it.

Hermione frowned as she watched him. 'Have you acquired yet another elf, Harry? What became of Kreacher?' Her disapproval was palpable.

Harry groaned inwardly. He should have known that Hermione would pick on that. 'Kreacher is still with me. However, I asked him to care for Andy and Teddy when I gave Snuffles house to them. Breezy came with the house where Daphne and I have lived during the summer.' He waved his hand over the picnic hamper to enlarge it.

Surprised gasps echoed through the compartment.

'Cor…!'

'Harry!'

He looked up. His friends gaped at him. 'What?' he asked, slightly irritated.

'I think our friends are amazed about your wandless abilities, love,' Daphne said.

'You can say that again,' Terry replied, still staring at Harry. 'Come to think of it, you did it already the night of your ball, when that madman assaulted Daphne, and you summoned Daphne to you wandlessly, and disarmed and bound him. I was so shocked back then that I didn't give it much thought.'

Neville, Ernie, Morag and Lisa nodded to that.

'You did what?' That was Hermione.

He glanced at his best friend. The way she looked at him he felt like a bug under the microscope. The gleam in her eyes told him she had found a new puzzle to solve, and won't rest until she had all the answers she wanted. And there it began.

'When did you discover that ability? Which spells can you do wandlessly? Do you have to say the incantation? How…' Hermione fired her questions at him without taking a breath.

He raised his hand to stop her. 'Hermione!'

However, she was on a roll, and paid him no heed. 'How do you channel your magic without a wand? What about the range of your spells? Is there a difference…'

Her voice was cut off mid-sentence, though her lips still moved.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw how Daphne lowered her wand. 'While I admire your scientific interest, Granger, the questions you ask are rather personal. I believe Harry already expressed that he's not willing to answer them, so I'd appreciate if you respect the privacy of my husband.' The rebuke was delivered with a polite smile, but the steel in Daphne's voice and in her eyes was unmistakable.

The broad grins and stifled laughs of his friends told Harry that they wholeheartedly agreed with Daphne; even Ron hastily suppressed a grin.

Hermione glared at Daphne; her face, however, had turned red with embarrassment.

Harry bent towards his wife and gave her a peck on the cheek. 'Thanks, love,' he whispered, and he meant it. He doubted he would have had the heart to stand up against Hermione the way Daphne did.

Daphne raised her wand and cancelled the Silencing Charm on Hermione.

Hermione shot another deadly glare at Daphne, but wisely choose not to press the matter.

'What about lunch?' Harry asked, opening the picnic basket, hoping that his diversionary tactic would at least work with Ron. His friend didn't disappoint him.

'I thought you'd never ask,' Ron exclaimed, which broke the tension. Laughing and chatting, eight ravenous young people made short work of the contents of the picnic basket.

Hermione reluctantly took a sandwich, but didn't participate in the lively chatter. The frown on her face when she regarded Harry with a look as if she didn't recognise him anymore gave her thoughts away. _Slave work,_ Harry read her thoughts as easily as if she had shouted them.

'It's not what you think, Hermione,' he told her under the noise of the chatter in the compartment.

She harrumphed at that. 'I can't believe you acquired yet another house elf, Harry. You said it came with the house you lived in during the summer. Considering that you didn't tell us where you lived, I suppose it was a Greengrass house and she didn't allow you to give away the location. They're an old and dark family; I'm not surprised they're slave masters.'

Harry took a deep breath. However, Daphne beat him to an answer.

'Actually, it's Harry's house,' she told her, and daintily took a bite from the chicken leg in her hand. She chewed and swallowed, and then went on, 'He inherited it from his grandfather. We're using it because it's unplottable and under a Fidelius Charm. The house elves are Potter house elves.' The smile she gave Hermione was perfectly polite, while her eyes mocked the Gryffindor.

Hermione gasped. 'Potter house elves, as in more than one?' Her eyes narrowed at Harry. 'Tell me, Harry, how many house elves do you own?'

'Uh…' He had no idea if there were any other house elves beside Sunny, Breezy, Reggy, Abby and Bemmy.

'I think about ninety-five,' Daphne supplied. 'At least that's the number I counted in your family ledger, Harry.' She gave him a conspiratorial wink, and he almost laughed out loud.

Hermione obviously had breathing problems. 'Ninety-five?' she gasped. 'Harry, how could you!' She sat bolt upright and gave him a stern look. 'You must set them free!'

Harry let out an inward groan. Not S.P.E.W. again!

Daphne regarded her with a look as if she was observing a hitherto unknown magical species. 'Why would he do that?' she wondered.

'You're a Pureblood, you wouldn't understand. You and the likes of you have kept them as slaves for centuries and brainwashed them into thinking they have to serve wizards,' Hermione shot back.

'Codswallop,' Daphne replied curtly, adding fuel to the fire.

Harry braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

Hermione's face reddened, and her eyes shot daggers at Daphne. However, the scathing remark she undoubtedly meant to throw at Daphne never left her mouth.

'For someone who prides herself so much on her academic prowess, you did your research poorly, Granger,' Lisa interjected.

Hermione's head whipped around. 'What do you mean by that, Turpin?' By the glare on her face it was plain to see that Lisa's remark had hit home.

The auburn haired Ravenclaw smiled at her sweetly. 'It's Boot now, Granger, but I guess you'll get used to it over the course of the school year.'

'Sorry, _Boot,_ ' Hermione replied, though her voice indicated otherwise.

Lisa's smile got even more pronounced. Obviously she was enjoying herself immensely getting Hermione all riled up, Harry thought, and he wondered what had happened between the two girls just before Daphne and he returned to the compartment.

Lisa took another swig of her butterbeer before she decided to answer Hermione's question. 'It's clear you never did proper research on the habitat necessary for house elves to thrive. They are symbiotic creatures, meaning they need the magic of a family they are bound to to survive. Without a strong bond to a family, they'll slowly but surely go insane. Setting his house elves free is the cruelest thing Harry can do to them.'

'But they are slaves! They are abused and exploited,' Hermione protested.

Lisa regarded her with a cool look. 'While I don't deny that there are families who abuse the privilege of having house elves serving them, I sincerely hope that you're not implying that Harry belongs to them. I don't know Harry as good as you do, but I know he's the kindest man I ever met and absolutely incapable of harming, abusing or exploiting a living creature, may it be a human, an animal or a house elf.'

Hermione blushed at her words. 'I'm not talking about Harry!'

'Could have fooled me there,' Lisa replied. 'Granger, you're a smart girl, so I can't understand that you fail to see that you can't change a culture that has developed over centuries by the scratch of a pen. That would hurt those you want to help the most, because they are woefully unprepared for the freedom you want to give them.'

That shut Hermione up. She slumped back in her seat, a frown on her face, obviously mulling Lisa's arguments.

Harry gave the pretty Ravenclaw an impressed look. She had put his vague feelings and instinctive thoughts of the topic into rational arguments that actually made Hermione consider her input. That was something neither he nor Ron ever had managed during their countless arguments with Hermione.

Silence settled over the compartment after lunch. Morag and Ernie talked quietly among themselves, while Lisa and Terry were cuddling. Ron, for once satiated, had his head leaned against the headrest and snored audibly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Neville hit him with a light Silencing Charm before he also leaned back and closed his eyes. Harry was amazed that Hermione didn't seem to notice and commented on it; she still seemed to be deep in thought, her unfocused eyes staring at the landscape that hurried past the window. He put the shrunken picnic basket back into his backpack and pulled the novels he had bought for Daphne and himself out of it.

Daphne accepted the book with a grateful smile. Following Lisa's example, she kicked off her high heeled dragon skin boots and pulled her legs onto the cushioned bench, leaning back against his chest.

He slid an arm around her waist. 'Comfortable?' he asked.

She tilted her head back and blew him a kiss. 'Very,' she smiled.

Cuddled up to each other, they enjoyed a quiet hour. Though, Harry had a hard time to ignore the appraising glances Hermione gave him and Daphne. She tried to be unobtrusive about it, but he knew his friend too well not to notice.

The quiet was disrupted by a house elf apparating into their compartment with a resounding CRACK, causing the young people to jump. Each of them had their wands in their hands within a split second, reminding Harry that the memory of the war was still too fresh on their minds.

However, when Harry saw it was a house elf, he cast a strong shield over the small creature to prevent it from the impact of the stunners his friends and Daphne threw at it. 'Wands down, it's only a house elf,' he shouted over the spellfire. The spellfire ceased immediately, and Harry cancelled his shield.

The small creature cowered in fear on the floor of the compartment.

Harry slid from his seat and knelt down beside the house elf, putting an arm around its trembling form. 'I'm sorry, we didn't mean to scare you. You took us by surprise when you apparated in our compartment, and we overreacted.'

The house elf looked up to him with big, bulging eyes. 'The great Harry Potter hugs a lowly house elf,' it whispered, obviously not believing its eyes. It wore a pristine white tea towel toga, with the letters "MfM" stitched on it.

Harry had no idea what to reply to that. The adoration in the eyes of the small creature made him feel uncomfortable. Luckily, the house elf didn't seem to expect a reply. It produced a thick roll of parchment out of its toga and handed it to Harry. 'Toddy bes supposed to give the great Harry Potter this,' it said, shoving the roll of parchment into Harry's hand.

'Uh...Thank you. What…' Harry replied, but before he could finish, the elf disappeared with another resounding CRACK.

Harry looked at the roll of parchment in his hands. He had no idea what this was about. However, the sound of two elf apparitions in short succession, not to mention the spellfire between, had upset the familiars in their carriers. Miss Elizabeth Bennet cried woefully, and the hiss that came out of Crookshanks' carrier made Harry fear that the half-Kneazle had somehow managed to turn itself into a cougar. Morag and Lisa's cats didn't fare much better, while Ernie's owl hooted and Pigwidgeon fluttered in his cage.

The young people hurried to calm down their familiars. Ron made short work with Pigwidgeon, and conjured a blanket that he threw over the cage, while Ernie managed to calm down his owl with a few soothing words and owl treats. The girls, however, insisted on taking their familiars out of their carriers.

Harry was not so sure if it was a good idea to let four cats, respectively Kneazles, that didn't know each other out of their carriers in the confined compartment. But before he could utter his objections, the girls had already opened the carriers.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet practically jumped into Daphne's hands. Daphne cradled the kitten to her chest, and sat down, once again leaning against Harry. The kitten let out another pitiful meow, then snuggled into Daphne, and closed its eyes.

Lisa and Morag's cats were as easily calmed down. They both settled down in their human's lap for a nap.

Crookshanks, however, choose to be difficult. Harry knew that the huge, orange-furred half-Kneazle wasn't a cuddly pet, not even in the best of circumstances. He couldn't count the many times he or Ron in particular had been hit with a sharp-clawed paw out of the blue. So, he watched Hermione's efforts to coax her bow-legged familiar out of the carrier with a wary eye. His wariness turned out to be well grounded. Crookshanks hissed at Hermione, and even hit her with his paw, causing a bloody scratch to appear on the back of Hermione's hand.

'Ouch!' Hermione exclaimed, and jerked back, sucking the back of her hand.

The half-Kneazle decided that this was the right moment to come out of the carrier. With a withering look at Hermione, it jumped out of the carrier, and then onto the bench beside Daphne, with a round back and its fur standing up, making it appear as twice as big.

Daphne retreated back into Harry, cradling her familiar to her chest protectively.

Harry tensed, ready to cast a stunner, should Crookshanks decide to jump at Daphne.

However, the half-Kneazle hissed one more time at Hermione, and then settled down on the bench.

'Wow, that's a mean one,' Terry exclaimed, while Lisa pulled her legs up, since her feet were in easy hitting distance of Crookshanks' paws.

'He's still cross with me that I left him with the Weasleys last year,' Hermione defended her familiar. 'He'll get over it, eventually.'

Ron stifled a snort. 'If you ask me, that one's always in a foul temper,' he murmured to Neville, who shuddered and nodded in agreement.

Their exchange had not been quiet enough to escape Hermione's attention. 'I heard that,' she snapped at them, giving them the evil eye. She leaned forward and reached out with her hand to pet the half-Kneazle on the bench opposite of her. 'You're a good boy, aren't you, my sweet?'

Crookshanks hissed. His paw shot out with the speed of lightning, and another scratch appeared on the back of Hermione's hand.

'I guess that means no,' Harry remarked dryly. 'Just let him be, Hermione; he'll calm down eventually.'

The nine young people settled back into their seats, however, not without casting wary glances at the half-Kneazle often.

From the secure spot in Daphne's hands, Miss Elizabeth Bennet decided that it was safe enough to do some exploring. Before Daphne knew what happened, the tiny Kneazle had slipped out of her hands and jumped on the cushioned bench, right beside Crookshanks, and sniffed at the paws of the huge half-Kneazle.

The young people watched with baited breaths. They were sure that the next moment the lightning-fast paw would strike once again, and send the kitten flying through the compartment, but nothing happened. Crookshanks seemed to watch the advances of the kitten with an indulgent eye.

Meanwhile, Miss Elizabeth Bennet seemed to be sure that the half-Kneazle posed no danger. Emboldened, the kitten moved closer, and settled down between Crookshanks' paws. To the amazement of everyone, the half-Kneazle began to lick the kitten, purring deeply.

'Who would've thought that,' Neville remarked mildly, and settled down to continue his interrupted nap.

Hermione looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be pleased that her familiar had calmed down, or vexed that it seemed to bond with Daphne's familiar, Harry thought. The low chuckle from his wife told him that she found the two animals and Hermione's predicament as amusing as he did.

Remembering the roll of parchment he got from the house elf, he leaned back in his seat and cracked the seal. It turned out to be the report of the Department of Mysteries on their research for the potion that might have been used to trick poor Richard Sprout into attacking Daphne. Harry couldn't make neither head nor tail out of the report. Cursing softly, he read it once again, until he thought he got the meaning. 'Now, that's interesting,' he exclaimed.

'What, Harry?' Hermione asked immediately.

He had been faintly aware that she had watched him the whole time he had been reading the report, much like a cat that was eyeing the mouse hole. Ignoring his friend, he cast a wandless Privacy Charm and turned to his wife. 'Our suspicion has been right. The Unspeakables found out that Richard Sprout had been fed a potion that mimics the effects of the Imperius Curse. It's devilishly hard to brew; the Unspeakables think there is only a handful of potion master in Europe who are able to do that.' He handed the report to her.

Daphne read it, and let out a low whistle. 'If the Aurors can find the potion master who brewed the potion, they might also track down the customer who bought it.'

'Exactly,' Harry agreed. He took the report from her and stashed it into his backpack. 'I think I need to have another talk with Head Auror Robards at the weekend.'

'You've been right all along,' Daphne said, giving him a proud smile. 'I never would've thought that the blood analysis could lead to such results, and neither did Head Auror Robards.'

'No, he'll be pretty pissed when I tell him,' Harry agreed, and cancelled the charm.

His wife chuckled at that, settling back in his arms to continue her reading. Harry joined her laughter. He was about to pick up his book and follow Daphne's example until it was time to change into his school robes, when Hermione's voice interrupted him.

'Who wrote to you, Harry?'

Harry groaned inwardly, while Daphne stiffened in his arms. He couldn't blame her. Just the opposite, the way Hermione thought she was entitled to pry into his affairs - and by extension also into Daphne's - was grating at his nerves.

'It is a confidential letter, Hermione,' he replied, not looking up from his book.

'You shared it with Greengrass!' She exclaimed, outraged.

He turned his head and gave her a long, level glance, not bothering to hide the annoyance he felt. 'Of course I did, Hermione,' he replied, and turned back to his book.

Hermione bristled with anger, but didn't dare to continue. Instead, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and began staring at the landscape once again, ignoring the sniggering that was audible from Terry, Lisa, Ernie and Morag.

His Gryffindor roommates, however, both looked as apprehensive as Harry felt.

It was obvious that Hermione was not only opposed to Daphne, but also determined to confirm the influence she had had on Harry during their years of friendship. It was as obvious that Daphne's friends resented her bold meddling, and would take sides with Daphne. Harry could see a year full of petty fights ahead.

He doubted that Ron or Neville had the balls to reign in Hermione; just like him they had grown up in the belief that she was much smarter than them, and therefore always knew best. His heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach as it dawned on him that it would fall to him to show Hermione her boundaries, and he wondered if their friendship would survive the year. However, if his friend insisted to make him choose between her and his wife, his choice was clear. To make their marriage work, he had promised Daphne to present a united front to the world. Apart from that, she had quickly become important to him. As much as he valued his friendship with Hermione - he knew he would be devastated if the rift between them became permanent -, he would never give up on Daphne.

He sighed and shifted in his seat.

Daphne tilted her head back and gave him a questioning glance. Something in his expression must have given his dark thoughts away, for she reached up with her hand and caressed his cheek, a slight frown on her face. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Daphne rewarded him with a soft smile, and blew him a kiss, before she returned to her novel.

Again, silence descended on the compartment. Meanwhile, they had reached the Highlands. The low sun was still shining on a landscape that already showed the first signs of autumn, casting long shadows. Ernie looked at his watch, then got up and stretched.

'Time to get changed,' he announced. 'We'll arrive at Hogsmeade within twenty minutes.'

The young men got up to leave the compartment, so that the girls could get changed. Harry helped Ron getting his and Hermione's trunk off the trunk rack, again wondering why they didn't bother to shrink their luggage, while Daphne cautiously persuaded Crookshanks to let go of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. To everyone's surprise, the half-Kneazle compiled, and even went back into his own carrier without so much as an evil glare at Hermione.

Soon after they had changed, the train reached Hogsmeade and jerkingly came to a halt. The doors opened, and the students spilled out onto the platform.

'Firs' years! Firs' years to me!' Harry heard Hagrid's rumbling voice, and couldn't help the broad grin that appeared on his face. It was so good to know that some things were still the same after the horrible war and all the changes that had taken place in his life.

With the help of Tori, Gideon and a couple of Ravenclaw prefects Harry and Daphne ushered the first years out of their compartments and brought them to Hagrid. They then walked to the carriages, only to be confronted with the sight of many distraught upperclassmen. They all had fought in the battle and all had witnessed death. That point was driven home by the sight of the Thestrals pulling the carriages.

Daphne gasped, and stopped in her tracks. 'I never imagined…' she exclaimed, looking at the skeletal creatures with horror-struck fascination.

'They are quite nice and gentle, actually,' Harry told her, and grabbed her hand.

'I take your word on that, though I wish I still wasn't able to see them,' she replied quietly.

They caught the last carriage, together with Tori and Gideon, and rode up to the castle in pensive silence.

Harry was glad that he had visited the castle during the holidays. He had been apprehensive to return, afraid the events of the battle would haunt him, but their previous visit made everything so much easier. It also helped that he held Daphne's hand in a firm grip when he entered the Great Hall for the first time since he had left it about a week after the battle to attend to the many funerals.

Back then, the podest with the teacher's table was transferred into a makeshift hospital that housed the easy cases because St Mungo's and the infirmary were full with the severe cases. A motley crew of students, staff, parents and Aurors had populated the castle, and nobody had cared much about house tables.

All traces of the battle had been removed from the Great Hall, just as it were the case with the rest of the castle. The teacher's table was back in position, though Professor Dumbledore's throne-like chair was missing. Headmistress McGonagall preferred to preside over the students on a plain, straight back chair, very much like the visitor chairs in her office, Harry noticed.

The house tables also were back in function. With a regretful grimace, Harry kissed his wife and then went to the Gryffindor table, while she continued to the Slytherin table.

He sat down beside Neville, opposite of Ron and Hermione. From here, he had a good view on the three other house tables, and he watched how Daphne sat down beside Pansy Parkinson. The stuck-up Slytherin at once started a conversation with her. By the composed, yet polite look on Daphne's face Harry could tell that she didn't enjoy it at all, and he sent her what he hoped to be an encouraging smile.

Hermione lost no time. He had barely sat down when she already cast a Privacy Charm around the four of them.

'Finally we can talk without _that_ _woman_ watching us and listening to every word we say. Harry, you can be honest with us, and don't have to keep up appearances because you're afraid of a violent reaction from her. I've done a lot of research, and I'm sure we can get you out of this. You don't have to do a thing; I'll do the paperwork for you.' In her eagerness, she had reached across the table and grabbed his forearm.

Harry let out a sigh. From the corner of his eyes he could see that Ron looked at Hermione's hand on his arm with a strange expression, and he tried to free himself from her grasp without being too obvious about it. Thankfully, Neville came to his rescue.

'What are you talking about?' he asked Hermione.

'About the annulment of my marriage to Daphne,' Harry informed him, since Hermione didn't seem to be forthcoming.

'Why in the world would you do that?' Neville wondered.

'I've no idea,' Harry answered mildly. 'Maybe Hermione can answer that question for us?' He looked at his friend with raised eyebrows.

As he had expected, that set her off. 'It's plain to see that Harry was blackmailed into that marriage with Greengrass. He won't say a word about it as long as she's around, and she never lets him out of her sight. We have to help him, Neville!'

Neville gaped at her. 'You're taking the mickey, aren't you?'

'Neville, this is not a joking matter,' Hermione replied, her voice cracking.

'I see,' Neville replied slowly. He looked at Hermione as if he saw her for the first time. 'Did it ever occur to you that these two are in love? That's plain to see for everyone who looks at them.'

Hermione gave a derisive snort. 'Not you, too, Neville! Harry told us all about how this unfortunate marriage happened, and I can tell you that love had nothing to do with it. They were both full to the gills when they ran off to Gretna Green!'

Neville gasped, then broke out into laughter. 'Is that so? I've wondered how you swept my cousin off her feet, Harry. Daphne is famous in the family for her self control. That hasty marriage was so unlike her; you've got to tell me everything about it one day.'

Harry grinned in reply. Neville's outburst had given him the opportunity to free his arm from Hermione's grasp. 'Are you sure you want to hear everything?'

Neville stared at him, and then turned a violent shade of red. 'Uh - perhaps not,' he stammered.

Harry sniggered softly to himself. Ron also looked amused, albeit his red ears betrayed his embarrassment, but Hermione definitely wasn't willing to join their joking.

'Harry! You possibly don't want to continue a loveless marriage!'

The laughter vanished from his face, and he stared at her. 'Who said my marriage is loveless?'

'But…!' she protested.

'Ever heard of love on first sight, Hermione?' Harry pressed home his point.

She turned pale. 'You can't be serious!'

He grinned at her to ease the tension. 'I think we already established that I'm not.'

'Harry!' She glared at him. 'I simply don't believe it. You're not as fickle as that, Harry. I've watched you during our time on the run: you looked at Ginny's dot on the map night for night. I can't believe that you broke up with her not even two months later, and I believe even less that you fell head over heels in love with Greengrass on that very same day and eloped with her.'

Harry sighed. He popped his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. The train ride had been long and draining; Hermione's hostile attitude to Daphne and Ginny's attack had taken a lot out of him. He wasn't impressed that she confronted him with another argument the moment Daphne had left them. The Welcoming Feast was neither the right time nor the right place for that. On the other hand, he knew she wouldn't budge. Hermione was used to not restraining until she got answers to her questions. He raised his head and looked at her.

'You're right, Hermione, I fancied myself to be in love with Ginny while we were on the run. However, that feeling didn't survive the reality test for long when we came back together after the war. As I already told you, we had problems even before you and Ron left for Australia, though we kept them under the rug. It took me some time to admit that our relationship had failed, but then I ended it. Believe it or not, Daphne and I met by accident that very evening. There was no way she could have known I'd be in that pub that night. Heck, even I didn't know it until I went through the door.'

He was interrupted by Professor Flitwick leading the first years into the Great Hall, and positioning the stool with the Sorting Hat in front of the teacher's table. With a huff and a glare that indicated that this was not yet over, Hermione turned around to listen to the Sorting Hat's song.

Deeply troubled, Harry watched her, while he listened with half an ear to the Hat's song. Hermione's dedication to dissolve his marriage promised to be another cause for a severe disagreement between him and his friend; she was absolutely incapable to accept his statement that he didn't want to dissolve his marriage. For a second, he considered Daphne's assessment that Hermione still might have amorous feelings for him, but dismissed it at once. As long as he knew her, Hermione had always been passionate about their friendship. It was not unusual for her to hug him, or to turn to him when she needed comfort. After all, that's what friends are for.

Far more disturbing was the fact that Ron still not seemed to have overcome his insecurity when it came to Harry and Hermione. That could become a problem between him and his best mate, especially if Ron ever found out what had happened between Hermione and him while he had deserted them.

The Sorting Hat ended its song, and Harry automatically joined the applause. The Sorting took a long time this year, with the class being twice as big as normal. He looked at the first years that had lined up in front of the teacher's table, and had to smile. They were so small! Most of them were terrified, as their pale faces and wide open eyes clearly betrayed. Some of them tried to conceal their nervousness with feigned calmness, although a sudden twitch of an eye here and a fidgeting hand there gave them away. Harry wondered if he might be watching the future Slytherins. Considering what Daphne had told him about her upbringing, and how important it was for Slytherins always to maintain a calm exterior, he thought it very likely.

The thought of his wife made him turn around and look for her at the Slytherin table. To his amazement, he found her looking right back at him, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if something was troubling her. She probably hadn't missed the conversation between him, Hermione and Neville, and was now worried. He winked at her, and her taut expression was replaced by a look of relief.

He watched how Cassie was sorted into Ravenclaw, and endured a seemingly endless time of Ron complaining about how hungry he was, while the rest of the class was sorted. With a sigh of relief, he joined the applause when at last Zeller, Roland, was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Headmistress McGonagall rose from her chair and cast 'Sonorus!' at her throat.

'To all new students: welcome to Hogwarts. To all of our old students: welcome back! There is a time for speeches, but not now. Tuck in!' With a flick of her wand the food appeared on the table.

Short applause and laughter followed her words. The Sorting had been long, and the students were famished. Within seconds, the Great Hall was filled with lively chatter and the sound of silverware clinking against the golden plates.

Due to the huge lunch Breezy had packed them, Harry wasn't as hungry and took his time to fill his plate with his all-time favourite, steak-and-kidney-pie. While he wondered what the Hogwarts elves did to make this dish taste so wonderful, he let his eyes wander around the Great Hall.

The teacher's table seemed strange, without Professor Dumbledore presiding over the Welcoming Feast, and Snape glaring down at him from behind his greasy curtain of hair, Harry thought. However, Hagrid was still there, and Harry gave his first friend in the wizarding world a small wave. To his amazement, he got a rather cold nod in return. He was puzzled, until it dawned on him that Hagrid most likely also had taken offense at his marriage to a Slytherin. He resolved to visit the half-giant as soon as possible, and introduce Daphne to him. He was sure his friend would change his mind as soon as he got to know his wife.

Watching the professors talking and enjoying their meal, he noticed a couple of new faces, among them a familiar face: Hestia Jones, Kingsley's lady-friend. His mood lit up. He knew Hestia to be a very capable Auror, and a member of the disbanded Order of the Phoenix. It looked as if for once they were going to have a decent D.A.D.A. professor.

The wonder on the faces of the first years at the huge display of food was a sight to behold, as every year. Now, that the anxiety of the Sorting was gone, they heartily partook in the spread in front of them, while their mouths went a mile a minute. They all made an effort to get to know their new housemates, though he noticed that a lot of smiles, small waves and remarks were exchanged across the tables with the firsties from other houses. Apparently Daphne and his strategy to put all firsties together had paid off, Harry thought with a satisfied smile, while he debated whether to take another helping of the delicious pie.

Ron had no such qualms. He was already on his third helping - or was it his fourth? Harry had lost count while he observed the first years. As usual, Hermione watched him devouring his dinner with a slightly nauseated expression. Harry couldn't blame her. Ron was supposed to be an adult, but his table manners surely hadn't matured at the same rate as his body.

'Really, Ronald!' he heard Hermione say.

'Wa'mione,' was the unintelligible response.

Sniggering to himself, Harry tuned out his friends. By now he could recite the argument that would follow almost word by word.

Neville also chuckled. 'Foreplay,' he muttered.

'Shut it, Longbottom; some of us are still eating,' Harry muttered back, and they laughed.

Neville was addressed by Parvati Patil and turned around to answer her question, and Harry was free again to let his eyes and thoughts wander. As if by an invisible magnet, they were once again drawn to the Slytherin table. Daphne looked down at her plate, but she was hardly eating and merely shifting her food around with her fork and knife. When she felt his gaze upon herself, she looked up and gave him a strained smile. Her attention then was demanded by Parkinson, who seemed to be chatting constantly, the simper that had already aggravated him to no end during their first six years at Hogwarts never leaving her face.

From Parkinson, Harry's gaze turned to Nott. He almost recoiled when the unhealthy looking young man returned his gaze with a hatred that could have burned through steel. While they were still trying to stare each other into submission, Nott suddenly raised his hand and cut it across his throat in a sharp motion. Never one to avoid a challenge, Harry raised his goblet in a mock salute at Nott. Nott bared his teeth, and for a second it seemed as if he was about to draw his wand and throw a hex at Harry - one of the Unforgivables, most likely, Harry thought, inwardly shuddering at the hate that still burnt in Nott's eyes, but outwardly keeping his bravado in typical Gryffindor fashion. To his relief, Nott's attention was claimed by his betrothed, and he turned toward her, quickly plastering a false smile on his face.

Harry looked the Slytherin table up and down for other seventh years who had returned to Hogwarts, but couldn't find any. He frowned. Could it be that only three of the originally nine Slytherins that had started Hogwarts with them had returned?

Beside him, Neville's thoughts seemed to have gone into the same direction. 'Our year always was the smallest class at Hogwarts, and it seems as if the last war has diminished our numbers even more.'

Ron looked up. 'What do you mean by that, mate?'

Neville pointed with his fork at the Slytherin table. 'There were nine Slytherins when we started: Malfoy, his goons Crabbe and Goyle, Nott, Zabini, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Davis and Greengrass. Now there are only three left: Nott, Parkinson and Greengrass - sorry - Potter,' he corrected himself with a grin when he noticed Harry glaring at him. 'I wonder what became of the rest.'

Hermione didn't look up from her plate. 'Who cares?' she replied, and cut her chicken breast with more force than necessary.

Harry and Neville exchanged a concerned look. That was so unlike Hermione. She had always been the first to reprimand them when they made disparaging remarks about the Slytherins, back in the days before the war broke out with full force. For the first time, Harry realised that the war had not only changed him, but also his best friends.

'Malfoy is in Ministry custody, awaiting his trial,' Ron said, the broad grin on his face betraying the satisfaction he felt about that. 'Crabbe died in the Fiendfyre the moron conjured in the Room of Requirement. Goyle is on the run, and so is Bulstrode. I have no idea what became of Zabini, though. Davis was killed last year. Ginny mentioned it.'

'Good,' Hermione remarked, her eyes still fixed to her plate.

'Hermione!' the three young men exclaimed, shocked.

She looked up. 'What?'

For the third time that day, Harry was taken aback by the venom in her voice and the strange expression on her face. His second helping of pie was only half eaten, but his appetite suddenly had left him. He pushed his plate to the side.

'Tracey was Daphne's best friend. She was killed in a Death Eater raid during the Easter holidays,' he said quietly.

However, Hermione didn't take her words back. Ron had a miserable expression on his face as he looked at Hermione. It seemed as if he didn't recognise her anymore. Harry couldn't blame him; he also didn't know that side of his usually so warm-hearted and tolerant friend.

The pudding course appeared on the table, but the four friends had lost their appetites. Even Ron refused every dish, which must be a first, Harry mused. An uncomfortable silence had settled among the friends, and Harry spent the remainder of the meal looking at the other house tables and trying to find out who had returned from their year.

The Hufflepuffs were almost as badly decimated as the Slytherins. There had been ten of them, four boys and six girls: Ernie, Justin, Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith; Hannah, Susan Bones, Morag, Megan Jones, Sally-Anne Perks and Sophie Roper. Only four remained, Ernie, Justin, Susan and Morag. Wayne and Zacharias were absent. Harry wasn't surprised that Zacharias chose not to return to Hogwarts, given the way the coward had rushed out of the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall evacuated the castle from those who were still minor and those who choose not to fight. Given that all his other housemates stayed and fought, that decision certainly hadn't increased his popularity. While Hannah had left school during sixth year, after her mother had been killed, he had no idea what had become of Wayne, Megan, Sally-Ann and Sophie.

The Ravenclaws were slightly better off. They had also been a rather large group, compared to the Slytherins and Gryffindors; five boys and five girls. Of the boys, two were missing: Kevin Entwistle and Stephen Cornfoot, while Michael Corner, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein had returned. Of the girls, only Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin had returned, while Mandy Brocklehurst, Su Li and Eloise Midgen were missing.

His own house had suffered the least losses. The Gryffindor boy's dormitory would be full once again, had he still his quarters there. Poor Lavender Brown, however, hadn't survived her encounter with Greyback; she had died of her injuries a week after the battle.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Professor McGonagall, who once again addressed the students with the customary announcements at the beginning of the year. As Harry had expected, Hestia Jones was introduced as the new D.A.D.A. professor, and he joined the enthusiastic applause that welcomed her. The headmistress also introduced the new professor for Transfiguration, Isobel Metcalfe. To the amazement of everyone she informed them that Professor Binns had retired "to the next big adventure", and the new professor for History of Magic, Taylor Gibbs, was visibly surprised about the thunderous applause he received.

After the customary warnings ('By now you all should know the Forbidden Forest is called forbidden for a reason'), and a long, stern look in his direction that earned him the laughter of students and staff alike, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

'After the horrible experiences of last year, it is the first priority of the Board of Governors as well as of the staff to reunite the student body. The rift that estranged the houses, especially one house, from the rest of the students has gone on too long. If we don't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, we need changes.'

That statement was met with thunderous applause from all four houses. Harry could even see a lot of Slytherins nod in agreement.

'As we all have experienced to our great disadvantage, the separation of the student body into four different houses has been diametrical to the unity and peace of the school. For that reason we agreed that it is necessary for the four houses to mingle. With the consent of the Board of Governors, the house common rooms have been turned into additional study rooms. New common rooms for each year have been created in unused classrooms. These common rooms will be shared by all four houses.'

Harry barely refrained from pumping his fist into the air that the headmistress had followed his suggestion. He caught Daphne's proud smile across the house tables, and answered with a triumphant grin.

The students began to talk among themselves excitedly after that announcement. However, not everybody seemed to be happy about it, Harry observed. There were a handful of students in each house who looked less than enthusiastic. To his surprise, Hermione belonged to these students, while Ron looked thoughtful. Some of the students were rather vocal in their disagreement.

'I don't want to share a common room with slimy snakes,' Seamus Finnigan shouted. At the Slytherin table, Nott and Parkinson looked as if they smelled something extremely unpleasant.

Professor McGonagall ignored the commotion her announcement had caused. 'You'll find the common room for the first year on the first floor. The common room for the second year is on the second floor, and so on. The seventh years are on the seventh floor, far away from everyone, so that the parties that will undoubtedly take place there won't disturb the rest of the school.'

As to be expected, everyone broke out into laughter at that.

'We also have adjusted curfew. The years one up to three have to be back in their dorms at nine, while the years from four up to six have to be back at ten. For the seventh year, curfew was cancelled, since you are all adults.'

Again, thunderous applause broke out.

'However, no matter how long your night was, I expect all of you to be on time for your classes the next morning,' Professor McGonagall warned the adult students with a stern look over the rim of her glasses.

Another wave of laughter rolled through the Great Hall.

'For the first time since the turn of the century we have three married couples and a couple under an active marriage contract among the students. These couples won't live in the dormitories, but will each have an apartment of their own in the re-opened corridor for married couples. I ask the Boots, the Macmillans, the Notts and the Potters to stay behind. I'll show you to your new rooms.'

That last announcement caused a lot of whispering and curious glances at the four couples, though Harry noticed that most of the attention was centered around Daphne and him. To his relief, Daphne bore the curiosity of the student body with an unmoved expression.

The usual chaos ensued as Professor McGonagall sent off the students to their dorms.

'See you tomorrow, Harry,' Neville said as he got up from his seat. Ron gave him a nod in goodbye, while Hermione's lips were pressed in a thin line; it was obvious she didn't like it that he wouldn't share the dorm with them anymore.

'Night, Harry,' she said curtly, and walked out of the hall.

Harry let out a sigh while he slowly ambled towards the door to meet his wife. It had been a long, stressful day, and it was not over yet.

'Our own apartments, sweet!' Terry commented as they met in front of the doors. 'I'd thought we'd have to live in a room within our dorm.'

'Professor McGonagall told us about it when Harry and I met with her this summer,' Daphne said as she stepped beside Harry and took his hand.

Nott and Parkinson followed closely behind her. They didn't acknowledge the other couples.

Harry noticed that his wife moved even closer towards him, and that she avoided to look into the direction of her fellow Slytherins. Wondering what had happened between them and Daphne during the Welcome Feast, he put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her lightly, and felt how Daphne relaxed against him.

Professor McGonagall walked toward them. 'Follow me, please,' she said as she reached them.

The four couples followed her out of the Great Hall and up the moving staircase to a corridor on the fourth floor Harry had never noticed before. He wondered if the magic of the castle let that corridor only appear when it was needed.

Four doors were visible, two on each side of the corridor. They all had name plates.

Harry and Daphne's apartment was the second on the right side of the corridor, opposite of the apartment Ernie and Morag shared, and right next to the apartment of the Notts, Harry noticed with an inward grimace.

The four couples bade Professor McGonagall and each other a polite good night, and then entered their apartments.

Harry's shoulders sagged the moment he closed the door of their apartment behind himself. Glad to be finally alone with Daphne, he let out a long sigh and leaned with his back against the door.

Daphne seemed to feel as drained as he did. She turned around and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest.

He put his arms around her and pulled her to him tightly. They stood like that for a long time without talking, drawing strength from each other.

Finally, she raised her head and smiled at him. He bent down, and their lips met in a long, tender kiss.

'I missed you,' she purred, cuddling against him.

Harry chuckled. 'We've been together the whole day, except for the feast.'

'That's not the same as being with you at home; we've been under scrutiny all day long,' she contradicted.

He had to admit she had a point there. 'It'll probably be like that for the whole school year,' he warned.

'Yeah; that's why I'm so glad we have our own apartment and can leave the school over night at the weekend. Come on, let's have a look at our rooms.' She held out her hand to him.

They stood in a small hallway. To the right, a door led into a half-bathroom. To the left, there was a small kitchen with a dining area. The carrier with Miss Elizabeth Bennet stood in a corner of the room, and the pitiful meows of the little kitten let them know that it was not happy. Daphne rushed to the carrier to comfort her familiar. While she cradled the kitten in her arm and hummed soothingly, Harry pulled the basket and cat food out of his backpack and enlarged them. It took some time until the kitten was comforted and fed, and rolled itself into a ball in the basket, and Harry and Daphne were free to continue their exploration of their new home.

A third door led from the hallway into a spacious living room and study. One part of the room was furnished with a comfortable looking sofa and overstuffed chairs that were arranged around a low table. At the wall opposite to the living area two desks stood back to back, with shelves next to them that provided ample room for their textbooks and school supplies. A huge fireplace right of the entrance promised to provide warmth during the upcoming winter.

Daphne discovered a box with Floo powder on the mantelpiece, and whooped with joy. 'It looks as if we can Floo out and make calls, Harry!'

Harry thumped through a manual he had found next to the box with Floo powder. 'This is the security setup for the apartment,' he remarked. Then he laughed out loud. 'Professor McGonagall really meant it when she said she'd put an end to the many passwords. The front door's got a muggle lock, though you'll need your wand instead of a key to open it.' He turned a page, and then looked at Daphne. 'It seems our wands were keyed to the lock when we passed the threshold tonight. The manual describes here how we can key more persons into the lock. There's also a section about the Floo. At the moment, it's closed against incoming and outgoing persons and calls.' He closed the manual and put it back on the mantelpiece. 'I think any changes to the security setup can wait.'

Daphne agreed to that.

They continued through a door next to the sofa, and found themselves in a bedroom, barely big enough for a huge four poster bed and a small closet.

Daphne made a face when she saw the closet. 'How on earth am I supposed to get all our things into that small thing?'

Harry grinned. 'I don't know, love. Seems they gave the girls less space for their clothes in favour of the really important things.' He motioned to the huge bed, and promptly got slapped on his arm for his cheek.

'Prat!'

'Hey! I only meant that I'm thankful for a huge bed because you're hogging most of the space - and the duvet, too,' he grinned.

She shot him a dirty look. 'I'm most definitely not!'

'You are!'

'I'm not!'

'You are!'

Daphne narrowed her eyes and fingered for her wand, and Harry wisely decided that it might be better if he didn't tease her any longer.

After another look at him to make sure of his total submission, Daphne went to the closet and opened it. The next second she whooped and disappeared into the closet. 'You've got to love magic!' Harry heard her say.

Curiously, he followed her and peeked into the closet that turned out to be magically enlarged inside, and provided a veritable walk-in closet with room enough for his and Daphne's clothes. He quickly Summoned his backpack towards him, and pulled out their shrunken trunks. With the help of magic it was a matter of minutes until they had put their clothes in the closet, and organised their textbooks and other school supplies in the shelves in the living room.

Daphne led out a huge yawn. 'I'm knackered, but I'm too hyper to go to sleep yet.'

'What about a mug of hot cocoa before we go to sleep, love? Go and get ready, while I see what I can find in the kitchen.'

'Sounds lovely,' Daphne agreed and kissed him on the cheek. 'I think I'll keep you.'

Chuckling, Harry walked back into the kitchen. As he had expected, it was well stocked, and he found everything he needed for hot cocoa. He put the mugs with the steaming beverage and a jar with cookies he had found in the pantry on a tray and brought it into the living room, where he placed it on the low table in front of the sofa. With a swift move of his hand he lit a fire in the fireplace. He had just made himself comfortable on the sofa, when Daphne walked in. Her sight made him laugh out loud.

From the weeks of their honeymoon and the time they had spent at _The Hideaway_ he was used to see her in very short and very flimsy nightshirts and gowns - if you could call that exquisite pieces of clothing by such mundane names. Tonight, however, she had chosen to wear thick flannel pyjamas, with a terry cloth bathrobe over them, and bunny slippers at her feet.

'What do you expect? This is Scotland. In my book that equates to being next to the north pole,' she grinned and plopped beside him on the sofa. With a contented sigh, she leaned back against his chest and pulled her legs up. Harry handed her a mug of cocoa, and slid his free arm around her waist. She took the first sip with a moan of pleasure.

For a while, they both silently sipped their cocoa.

'What happened between Parkinson, Nott and you during the feast?' Harry finally asked. 'I noticed you hardly ate.'

Daphne grimaced. 'I suppose you won't believe me if I say they were just being their usual obnoxious selves?'

'Definitely not,' Harry agreed, and dropped a kiss on her head. 'I know it takes more for you to show you're uncomfortable in public; you're stalling, love.'

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled ruefully. 'Was I that obvious? Seems that Pansy's right: I'm a shame for the noble house of Salazar Slytherin if I can't hide my feelings from a Gryffindor.'

He snorted at that. 'I wouldn't worry about that, kitty. I like to think that I can read you pretty well by now. So, they were giving you a hard time about our marriage?'

'Pansy did,' she admitted. 'It started the moment I sat down. Oh, of course it was all disguised as friendly interest in my new circumstances, but her condescending tones said it all. Even worse, I was treated to detailed descriptions of the bliss of being in an active marriage contract with Nott; that really spoiled my appetite, I can tell you.'

Harry chuckled. 'I imagine.' Sobering, he pulled her closer to him. 'Don't play dumb with me, Daphne. You told me how Parkinson used to regale you and your roommates with her and Malfoy's exploits in various broom-closets. Whatever she did with Nott, it can't be much worse. Out with it; what happened to make you that uncomfortable?'

She huffed. 'Damn you, Potter, you're supposed to be the ignorant kid who never understood what was going on under his nose. While I now know now that you never were that dumb, it would be nice if you'd pretend still to be, instead of embarrassing your wife.'

Instead of a reply, he continued looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

'Fine, you win,' she finally caved in. 'It was Nott. The way he looked at me… I felt as if he was undressing me with his eyes, and slowly suffocating me with evil slime.' She gulped. 'I'm afraid he still hasn't given up the idea to marry me.'

Harry snorted at that. 'I can't see that come to pass. After all, he's married to Parkinson, and you're married to me. You were the one who told me there isn't such a thing as divorce in the magical world.'

'You're right, love, but you're also dangerously wrong,' she replied. Her eyes had become dark at these words, telling him that she was deeply troubled about something he didn't understand yet.

'Alright, Daphne; you'd better tell me what I can't see and what you're afraid of.'

She nodded at that. 'Sorry, love, I forgot that you weren't educated like the rest of us outside of school. Nott and Parkinson are not yet married: they live in an active marriage contract; that is a huge difference. An active marriage contract means that they will live together, but it can be dissolved.'

Harry looked at her, dumbfounded. 'What's the reason for such a contract?'

'Pureblood interests,' she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. 'I guess he offered her a contract that is similar to the one I received from him. That one stated that I had to live with him for at least six years, and present him with three children during that time. Only if at least one of these children turned out to be magical, I was deemed worthy enough to exchange marriage vows with him. Of course, the last decision if these vows ever would take place was up to him. He was allowed to send me back to my parents if I didn't fulfil my duty, and to keep my dowry as a compensation for his wasted time. On the other hand, I wasn't allowed to pursue my education, which meant I would have been without any means to support me, had he decided to send me packing; I'd have been completely dependent on my family.'

Harry stiffened at her words, and his grip around her waist tightened. 'You're kidding, aren't you?'

Daphne bit her lips and shook her head. 'Unfortunately, no. From the view of a Pureblood Head of House, that's a perfectly sensible contract. His first duty is to the family; he's got to keep the magic of his line alive at all costs so he can't afford to shackle himself to a witch who is incapable to bear magical children.'

'Bullshit!' Harry exploded. 'Did it never occur to these morons that it takes two to make children, and that there's a fifty percent chance that the child turns out to be a Squib because of their genes?'

She barked out a short laugh. 'Of course not!'

He rubbed his head with his free hand, and let out a sigh of frustration. 'Alright, love, I can see where this is going. Nott can get rid of Parkinson, or he can chose not to exchange magical vows with her. I guess that leaves him free to exchange the vows with another witch whenever he pleases?'

She nodded at that.

He let out a low whistle. 'Assuming that Nott is the one behind the assassination on us, I'll be out of the picture if he manages to kill me, so you were free to marry again. Sweet plan, isn't it? Unfortunately, he forgot that he'd need your cooperation for that.'

Daphne snuggled closer to him, her head buried at his shoulder. 'There's nothing to assume about Nott, love; I know he intends to kill you. Do you think I didn't see the throat-ripping gesture he made at you?' Her voice sounded hoarse. 'If he manages to kill you, I'd again fall under the jurisdiction of my Head of House, at least as long as you don't have a heir. You know what my father will do, Harry. I didn't run away from home just in a bout of teenage anger; there are many ways to enforce my cooperation.'

Harry shuddered at that. He knew she was right; he had seen what the compulsion potion did to Richard Sprout. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to him.

Her eyes were dark with worry.

'Well, he's gotta get me first to make that plan work,' he replied with more calmness than he actually felt, and gave her a short kiss to reassure her.

She wasn't mollified by that, as the sharp slap she gave him on his arm indicated. 'This is no joking matter, Harry!'

Harry put both arms around her and pulled her close. 'Believe me, love, I'm taking him and the possible threat he poses very serious, but I also don't intend to let my life get ruined because of it. I had enough of that during the last seven years. Besides that, we already agreed back home that Nott was a possible threat; his behaviour tonight just confirmed that suspicion. So, it's nothing new to worry about.'

She relaxed a little at his words. 'You're right,' she admitted. 'We can't let that rule our lives, but promise me to be careful, Harry!'

'Always,' he assured her, and kissed her again, while his thoughts raced. It was one thing to theorise about Nott being the power behind the assassination on them on the ball in the safety of their home, but quite another thing to see that suspicion confirmed by Nott's behaviour at a time when he had to live next door to him for a year. The castle was huge and had many corners that could hide an assassin. He would have to watch each of his steps from now on.

Snuggled up to each other, they watched the fire in the fireplace burning down to glowing embers, both lost in their thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes:** Many thanks to my fantastic beta, Haphne24. You rock, AJ!

This chapter was finished sooner than I thought, so I decided to publish it right away. The next update on this story is planned for the second weekend of November, if real life doesn't get in my way.

 **MY**

The next morning, the usual chatter and noise of breakfast time at Hogwarts greeted Harry and Daphne as they entered the Great Hall. As he was used to, Harry automatically steered his steps to the Gryffindor table, his eyes searching for his friends. Ron and Hermione were not down yet, and the glares they received from a few of his housemates - Seamus Finnigan and Romilda Vane in particular - made him reconsider, and he stopped.

'Harry, Daphne, over here!' Neville shouted from the Hufflepuff table, waving his arm.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a relieved glance and then threaded their way over to the Hufflepuff table, where they sat down next to Morag. They and Neville were not the only guests at the Hufflepuff table: Dean and Luna had come over, too, and so did Lisa and Terry.

'Don't pay him any heed, Harry,' Dean said, and motioned with his head towards Seamus. 'He'll come around, eventually.'

'I suppose you're right,' Harry replied as he poured himself a cup of tea. 'At least I don't have to share a dorm with him this time, so I won't butt heads with him constantly about his attitude.'

Dean and Neville laughed at that, both obviously remembering the spectacular fight he had had with Seamus at the beginning of fifth year.

'How's living in your own quarters?' Neville asked.

The three married couples looked at each other.

'I guess it's alright,' Ernie finally said. 'The apartment's rather small, but has all the essentials. I think we'll manage for a year.'

The other couples nodded to that, though Lisa said, 'I bet the Notts won't agree with us. It's not what they're used to.' She stuck her nose up in the air and sniffed. That had her friends laugh, but Daphne nodded to her statement.

'Definitely not,' she confirmed. 'I think Pansy's bedroom at her parent's alone was as big as our whole apartment.'

His breakfast momentarily forgotten, Terry turned his head around to the Slytherin table. 'Speaking of the Notts, where's our new Slytherin dream couple this morning?'

The others also had a look, but the Notts obviously had decided not to come into the Great Hall that morning.

'Makes you wonder what keeps them from joining us,' Terry grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows.

That earned him groans and gagging sounds from his friends, and a mock slap to his wrist from his wife. 'I'm still eating here, you know,' Lisa admonished.

'Sorry, love,' Terry replied, rubbing his wrist in an exaggerated way, and trying his best to look contrite, though his broad grin doomed that effort right from the beginning. The laughter around the table, following that short interplay, was disrupted by the owls arriving with the mail.

Ernie took the _Daily Prophet_ from a rather unkempt looking barn owl that barely took the time to wait until he had dropped the five Knuts in the pouch on its leg. Harry paid no heed to the newspaper, knowing that his copy would be delivered through the Banishing Box. Given the nonsense that paper published, he could wait until the afternoon.

'What the bloody hell…!' Ernie exclaimed when he unfolded the newspaper.

'Language, love,' Morag reprimanded him. It sounded resigned, as if she was used to it.

Harry looked up from his plate, and so did the others. Ernie held up the newspaper for them to read the headline:

 **McGonagall's Questionable Choice**

Daphne groaned, and Harry let out a sigh. 'Let me guess, they're speculating what possessed Professor McGonagall to make Daphne head girl and me head boy, because Daphne's a dark witch with an evil agenda, who bound me with Love Potions on top of that, and I'm hungry for power, as my current lawsuit against the _Profit_ proves,' he said.

'Right in one,' Ernie confirmed, perusing the article. 'They've got proof for their accusations in form of quotes from one Miss Romilda Vane. Wasn't that the one who tried to give you cauldron cakes laced with a Love Potion?'

'Yeah, and Ron ate them by accident, and in the aftermath got poisoned by a bottle of mead intended for Dumbledore on his seventeenth birthday,' Harry replied.

'What?' his friends asked unison. He groaned inwardly: he had forgot that hardly anyone at school knew what had happened to him and his friends in this castle. The mead incident had been kept under the rug by Dumbledore, who didn't want it to become public knowledge that someone was trying to kill him. He was rescued by Professors Slughorn and Flitwick and his own Head of House, Hestia, who came to deliver the timetables.

'You've got to tell us everything about that soon,' Terry said, before he turned around to Professor Flitwick to receive his timetable.

Daphne was approached by Professor Slughorn. 'Ah, Mrs Potter,' he said as he handed her the timetable, 'I hope I'll see you and your husband often at my little dinner parties.'

'I think we can manage, even though we've a lot on our plates this year, Professor Slughorn,' Daphne replied, smiling at the rotund professor, and ignoring the push Harry gave her under the table with his knee.

Professor Slughorn gave her a delighted smile, and then went on to the Slytherin table. Harry waited until Hestia handed him his timetable and was occupied with Dean and Neville, before he addressed his wife. 'You can't be serious about going to these stupid parties!'

'Why not?' she replied, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. 'I think we'll meet a lot of useful people there.' Her expression was bland, but her eyes laughed at him. As always, she enjoyed his discomfort at the social demands put on them way too much, Harry thought. The corners of his mouth quirked up against his will, responding to their private joke. 'Yeah, and also a lot of slimy brown nosers who want to use me,' he grumbled, trying hard to maintain his façade.

She looked at him over the rim of her teacup. 'Have you already forgot what you promised to Kingsley and Alex? These parties will be a good opportunity to promote their ideas among very influential people from many different social circles you normally won't have access to.' She had a point, and she knew it, judging by the smug smile that played around her lips. He sent her a mock-glare, and emptied his teacup. The smugness around Daphne's mouth became more pronounced, and cute little dimples appeared in her cheeks. Harry leaned towards her. 'Snake!' he whispered into her ear, and she chuckled. She knew only too well about the devastating effect her dimples had on him, he thought, and didn't hesitate to use that to her advantage.

'The other day Gordon visited us and told us about your meeting at the _Chat Noir,_ and what Minister Shacklebolt asked of you, Harry,' Ernie interjected, looking up from his timetable. 'Daphne has a point; these dinner parties will be useful, especially when you're trying to counteract the load of dragon dung the _Profit_ writes about you.'

'Point taken,' Harry conceded, after he had considered Ernie's words. 'Though, I just hate it to have to curry favour with people like Slughorn; I'm always afraid I'll slip on the trail of slime he leaves in his wake and break my neck.'

His friends laughed at that. 'Yeah, you Gryffindors are too straightforward for that,' Lisa grinned.

'Hey, we're not all as pigheaded as Harry,' Neville replied, frowning at her in mock-offense, and causing another round of laughter.

Daphne looked at Harry. 'Are you finished with your breakfast?' When he nodded, she took his hand and pulled him up from his seat. 'Don't worry, love, I'll see that you won't come to harm at Sluggy's parties. Just employ your inner Slytherin, and you'll be fine.'

He rolled his eyes at her, but joined the laughter her remark caused among his friends. Together, the group of friends walked out of the Great Hall to get their books for their morning classes. It turned out they all had Transfiguration first, except for Neville and Morag.

At the big double door of the Great Hall they bumped into Ron and Hermione, who rushed in from the Entrance Hall without noticing them. Ron's robes were askew, as if he had dressed in a great hurry that morning, and Hermione's hair seemed to have developed a live of its own, standing out even more bushy than usual. Both had a harassed look on their face, and breathed hard, as if they had run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall. Without acknowledging them, they raced along the tables towards Hestia, who was just about to leave the Great Hall for her first class.

'Better late than never,' Neville remarked. 'I guess Ron still has to get used to that you're not there anymore to haul his lazy arse out of bed in the mornings, Harry.'

Harry chuckled at that. His wife gave him a questioning glance. 'I should've expected that,' he told her, motioning with his head back to the Great Hall, while they walked up the stairs to their apartment. 'I was always the one who made sure they got to breakfast on time. Ron will sleep until midday and Hermione loves to read in the morning, but will forget the time over her books.'

A couple of minutes later, they waited in front of the Transfiguration classroom together with Ernie, Lisa and Terry, Susan Bones, and the rest of the Ravenclaws, speculating how the new professor for Transfiguration, Professor Metcalfe, would be in comparison to Professor McGonagall.

'It'll be hard for her to measure up to the quality of teaching we have come to expect from Professor McGonagall,' Anthony Goldstein summed up the general consent. 'That'll be tough for any teacher.' His classmates nodded to that. Their talk was interrupted that moment by Professor Metcalfe, who opened the door to her classroom.

Harry looked over his shoulder when he turned around to follow his friends into the classroom. There was still no sign of Ron and Hermione. He was just about to enter the classroom, when he heard the sound of running feet. He halted his steps and looked over his shoulder: Ron and Hermione came running down the hallway, bickering all the time.

Harry marvelled how they still had the breath to argue while running at top speed. He rolled his eyes at Daphne. Some things obviously never changed, not even after a war that had almost destroyed their world. His wife smirked in reply, and they entered the classroom behind Ernie and Susan. The Potters took a seat next to each other in the third row. Lisa and Terry settled down beside them.

Ron and Hermione burst into the classroom just when Professor Metcalfe was about to close the door. While Hermione gave the professor an apologetic smile as she rushed past her, Ron, still munching on a piece of buttered toast he apparently had snatched up in the Great Hall, paid her no heed, and ignored the disapproving frown the professor sent his way.

After the usual introductions and the roll call, Professor Metcalfe waved her wand, and a sheet of parchment appeared in front of each of the students. 'In the light of the difficult circumstances of last year, I'd like to know where you all stand,' she explained. 'Not all of you got the education you deserved last year, and even if you were able to attend Hogwarts, the conditions at the school were not beneficial to learning. My first goal is to fill the gaps that occurred because of the difficult conditions. As soon as we're there, we can concentrate on the things you still have to learn for your N.E.W.T.s, before we'll start revising for the exams after the Easter holidays.'

She pointed towards the sheets of parchment in front of them. 'For that purpose I've drafted a small test and you've got the rest of the period to complete it. Those that finish early may leave the classroom quietly and enjoy a break. The second part of the period we'll have a practical. Begin!'

The students groaned, but began working on the test in front of them. It covered the material of the seventh year, Harry discovered as he read through it. He grimaced, but dipped his quill into the inkwell in front of him, and started to answer the questions to his best ability. Even though he hadn't had any formal education on the material, he found to his amazement that he could answer most of the questions. He had hit Hermione's books whenever they had come to a dead end in their search for the Horcrux and he needed to distract himself. Also, their lack of food made him look through the Transfiguration textbooks over and over again, in the hope to find some hints that would help them to make due with the little they had. Not that he had had any luck with that, but as a result he apparently had picked up more about the theory behind complex Transfiguration and Conjuration as he had thought possible.

Finally finished, he put down his quill and looked around. Terry and Lisa had left the room already a few minutes ago, while Daphne and Ernie just handed in their tests. Most of the other students, however, were still completing the answers.

Hermione was among them. Harry was used to her scribbling until the last second, making sure she covered every aspect of the problem presented to her. However, something in her behaviour today stroke him as odd. Her free hand was clutched in her hair, messing it up completely, so that it looked like the nest of a very untidy bird. He heard her groan softly, while she scratched out a sentence and started new, only to repeat that action a few seconds later.

Harry stood up and went to the professor's desk to hand in his test. His eyes never left Hermione's back. When he turned around after having put his parchment in front of Professor Metcalfe, he was finally able to look at his friend. She had smeared ink across her nose, and tears running down her cheek. He froze, staring at his friend. Next to her, Ron looked up. His quill was poised over his piece of parchment, but he hadn't written a single word ever since Harry had started watching Hermione. Harry suspected he was stalling to hand in his own test, so that he wouldn't have to leave an obviously distraught Hermione. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry could see the same helplessness in them he felt.

Professor Metcalfe startled him out of his shock. 'Please, leave the room, Mr Potter.'

He gave the professor an apologetic smile over his shoulder, and left the room.

The Boots, Ernie, and Daphne stood in a niche further down the hall, talking among themselves. Harry walked to them and draped his arm around Daphne's shoulder.

She greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, and smiled up at him. 'How did it go?'

'Amazingly well, considering that I didn't attend school last year,' he answered, and kissed her back, but it was a perfunctory kiss. His thoughts were still back in the classroom, trying to understand Hermione's strange behaviour.

'Why then this frown on your face?' Daphne asked. Her gaze searched his face.

He startled; he should have known that she would notice his absent mindedness. 'Hermione,' he answered, not sure how she would take his concern about his friend. 'She freaked out during the test.'

'Granger's always freaking when it comes to exams and tests,' Lisa interjected. She pursed her lips and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. 'I'm sure she'll manage and come out among the top students, as always.'

Daphne looked as if she agreed wholeheartedly with this statement, and Ernie and Terry nodded.

'Yeah, she's kind of a drama queen during exams. I'm sure she'll survive,' Terry added.

That wasn't an exuberant endorsement for Hermione, Harry thought. His first reaction was offense at his friend's behalf, but then he reminded himself how often Hermione had rubbed the wrong way with her peers during their years at Hogwarts because of her know-it-all attitude, and her eagerness to show off in classes. Even he and Ron had avoided her at all costs during the first weeks of their first year because of that. If it hadn't been for the troll incident, they never would have become friends. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, and shook his head. 'I know, but it's not like that; this is different. Even though she's always freaking before and after exams or tests, she's able to pull off all her knowledge. I not once saw her struggle while writing a test, but today she did.'

His wife still wasn't convinced. 'That was to be expected, wasn't it? Today's test covered seventh year material, and she didn't attend classes last year. You'd think she'll have problems with it.'

Terry, Lisa, and Ernie nodded to that.

Harry opened his mouth for a reply, but was interrupted by the door of the classroom flying open: Hermione stormed out of the room and ran towards the girl's restroom. She had her face averted when she dashed past them. Harry could tell by her body language that she was crying, but tried to hide her tears from her classmates. She yanked the door to the restroom open and disappeared; the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

Ron followed her at a slower pace, and took up his post in the window niche opposite of the restroom door. His jaw was set in a grim line, and his eyes not once strayed from the door to the restroom while he waited for Hermione to come out. The strained behaviour of his usually relaxed best mate told Harry more than anything that something was seriously amiss.

Harry sighed and turned back to his friends and his wife. They all stared at the restroom door. 'Everyone would think it's natural to have problems under these circumstances,' he resumed their conversation. 'However, Hermione will take it as a personal failure that she couldn't answer all questions of the test, and she'll push herself even harder.'

Daphne still didn't understand. 'She's ambitious, what's wrong with that?'

'Nothing,' Harry admitted, again running his hand through his hair, until it stood up at the back of his head. 'Hermione always went beyond that though. The way she obsesses about her performance at school isn't healthy.'

'Don't we know that,' Lisa snorted, and flicked a piece of lint from the lapel of her robes. 'I think in sixth year all of us have at least once been on the receiving end of one of her glares when we performed better than her. You should know that, Harry, considering how she reacted to your success in Potions.'

Ernie nodded his head. 'Lisa's right. I still remember how she reacted when Daphne beat her to first place at the O.W.L.s; if looks could kill, Daphne would've been dead!' He grinned at his cousin-in-law, who smirked back. 'I'd say it'll do her good to be put in her place, and to be reminded there are more smart people in the world than just her.'

Daphne, Lisa and Terry seemed to share his opinion, given how they hummed and nodded to Ernie's statement.

Harry shook his head. They didn't know Hermione as well as he did, and weren't able to see what was as plain as milk to him. Again, he started to object, but was interrupted by Professor Metcalfe who asked the class to come back into the classroom. Harry looked back over his shoulder if Ron and Hermione followed them. Ron had left his post in the niche and now stood in front of the door, his arms raised as if he was knocking on the door, and urging Hermione to come out.

Harry and Daphne had already taken their places when the door opened once again, and Hermione and Ron slipped into the room. That earned them a glare from the professor. 'Five points each from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley!' From his place in the third row Harry could see how Hermione's shoulders sagged, and how Ron's earlobes turned a dangerous shade of red. However, no remark about the deduction of house points left his mouth. Harry began to wonder if Ron eventually grew up.

Each student now had a couple of objects in front of them, and a parchment with a list of tasks to complete. 'Begin,' Professor Metcalfe told them.

Harry took out his wand and set to work. Daphne raised her brows, and it occurred to him that she hadn't seen him using a wand once since they got married. Wandless magic had become second nature to him ever since he discovered that new ability the day after he had vanquished Voldemort. However, he had no intention to let the news of this talent of him spread around, so he decided to use his wand in classes. Judging by the small wink she gave him, Daphne agreed with his decision.

The first tasks were simple Transfigurations, but covered all the possible ways to transfigure one object into another, with the object-to-animated-animal transfiguration the most difficult among them. Harry thought he had done a good job with transfiguring his pincushion into a hedgehog, although a few spikes on his transfigured animal still looked suspiciously like pins. He then moved on to the Conjuration spells. The inorganic and unanimated Conjuration was no big problem. Soon he had the items Professor Metcalfe had listed lined up in front of him, although the conjuration of copper and silver took out a lot of him. Finally, there was only the conjuration of animated objects left. He flicked his wand and silently conjured a flock of colourful birds that fluttered around his head, reminding him of Pigwidgeon delivering a letter.

He let out a sigh of relief, and stashed his wand back in his pocket before he looked up. To his amazement he found that he was the first who had finished all the tasks, and seemed to have been successful with all of them. A lot of his classmates struggled with the conjuration of metals and animated objects.

Daphne tried to conjure a lump of copper, but wasn't successful before her third try.

Ernie had also moved on to the conjuration of metals. He raised his wand and made the movement for conjuring copper. His face flushed while he went through the moves of the spell, obviously trying to push his magic. Harry hardly suppressed a chuckle: Ernie looked as if he was about to lay an egg. However, nothing happened. Visibly deflating, Ernie let out a deep, disappointed breath and tried again.

Professor Metcalfe came over to Harry. She looked at the objects in front of him. 'Excellent practical wandwork, Mr Potter. Full marks!' She then walked over to Ernie, who had moved on to the conjuration of silver, after he had finally managed to conjure a tiny lump of copper.

Daphne gave her husband a proud smile behind the professor's back, but then turned back to her own work, a look of determination on her face. She flicked her wand, and beamed when a seizable lump of silver appeared in front of her.

Since this time Professor Metcalfe had said nothing about them being allowed to leave the room as soon as they were finished, Harry sat back in his chair and watched the progress of his classmates. Naturally, he was most interested in his friends. Lisa and Terry had progressed as far as Ernie and Daphne. They were also struggling with the conjuration of metals. Lisa soon gave it up as a lost cause, and moved on to the silent conjuration of birds, while Terry managed to conjure a sizable lump of copper, but failed miserably with silver.

From Lisa and Terry his eyes wandered to Ron and Hermione. Ron moved slowly, but steadily through the tasks, and had already two thirds of them accomplished successfully. Harry knew that his mate was a powerful and capable wizard, as long as he kept his wits about him, and had no doubts that Ron would be as successful with the remaining tasks.

The table in front of Hermione, however, looked like a disaster area. Seamus Finnigan was infamous for setting the objects he had to work on in Transfiguration on fire, if he didn't obliterate them anyway. Today, Hermione tried her best to beat him to the title of the Most Destructive Magician of the Millennium, as Professor McGonagall had called him in a fit of despair in their second year. Her hedgehog still wore the flowery pattern of her pincushion on his back, and his spikes looked definitely scorched. Her teacup missed the handle, but instead sported a long, ugly crack. She had obviously given up on the configuration of metals. The single bird she conjured with a flick of her wand had a drab, brown colour, and it fluttered only a few times before it settled down in Hermione's hair, obviously too tired to move on.

Any other time the sight of the bird settling down in Hermione's untidy bush of hair as if it was going to nest would have had Harry in stitches. However, there wasn't anything funny about the defeated way Hermione let her wand drop onto the table while she waited for Professor Metcalfe's judgement.

The professor looked not impressed with her work. Hermione's shoulders slumped even more when Professor Metcalfe put up a Privacy Charm and then delivered an obviously long and stern lecture. She then turned away from Hermione to assess the work of the rest of the students.

Harry saw that Hermione's shoulders quivered slightly. Ron put a hand on her arm, his head bent towards her, and said something to her. Deep frowns of worry marred his usually so cheerful and easygoing features. At first, Hermione seemed to draw comfort from his touch. Then she shrugged his hand off and withdrew from him. Harry hadn't thought possible that the lines of worry on Ron's face could get any deeper, but they did.

As soon as the bell rang, Hermione grabbed her bag and fled from the classroom, not heeding the many curious glances that followed her.

'Now, that was odd,' Daphne said as they walked to the Charms classroom. 'What by Merlin's unmentionables is wrong with Granger? She was always on top in Transfiguration; way ahead of all of us; this practical should've been a piece of cake for her.'

'I tried to tell you there's something wrong with her, but you wouldn't listen,' Harry replied. He was worrying where Hermione had ran to, and slightly miffed at his wife that she hadn't taken him serious when he tried to explain his concerns; thus the words came out much sharper than he intended.

Daphne's face flushed at his words, and her eyes darkened. Harry stared ahead, but he didn't really see anything, while he still brooded over Hermione's strange behaviour.

They continued their way to the Charms classroom in silence. Lost in his thoughts, Harry had no idea that his wife glanced at him from under her eyelashes. She seemed to be calm and composed as she walked beside him, and he was glad that she respected his need for thought and didn't start a conversation. However, had he looked at her once, he would have known that despite her outside calm appearance her eyes were dark and worried.

He was startled out of his musings when Ron caught up with him and touched him by the arm. One look at his friend told him that Ron was as concerned about Hermione's behaviour as he was. He let himself fall back behind Daphne.

'What's got into Hermione, Ron? Ever since you're back from Australia she acts like a completely different person.'

Ron looked around. Even though Daphne had walked ahead a couple of steps, it was plain to see by her body language that she tried to listen into their conversation. Anthony Goldstein and the Patil twins, who passed them that moment, also gave them curious glances.

'Not here. Can we talk tonight, after dinner?' Ron asked.

Harry nodded to that. 'Come to our rooms. We'll be undisturbed there.'

'Alright,' Ron agreed.

They had reached the Charms classroom while they talked. Neville and Morag already waited in front of the still closed door, and waved at them. Daphne walked to her cousin and started a conversation with her.

Ron looked around. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, and he let out a deep sigh.

Daphne regarded Harry with a strange expression in her eyes when he walked to her. He put his arm around her shoulder, and startled when she stiffened at his touch. 'Is something wrong, love?' he whispered into her ear.

She shook her head, and even seemed to relax against him, but she didn't look at him.

Something was bothering her, he decided, and she was trying to hide it from him. His heart sank. Had he done something wrong? Merlin, he was no Legilimens, so how was he supposed to know what was wrong? Not knowing what to do, he tightened his embrace around her shoulders, hoping that it would light up her mood, and dropped a kiss on her head. That apparently had been the right thing to do; she turned her head and kissed him on the cheek, a real smile on her face. He let out an inward sigh of relief. Whatever it was that had bothered her, it was apparently gone as sudden as it had come. Probably it was one of these strange girl things a male never would understand, Harry decided. His musings were interrupted by Professor Flitwick, who opened the door and invited them in.

As in Transfiguration, Harry, Daphne, Lisa and Terry took seats next to each other. Hermione still had not turned up. Ron waited until the last possible moment, but had to walk into the classroom when the diminutive professor asked, 'Won't you join us, Mr Weasley?'

'Sorry, professor,' Ron mumbled, blushing a deep Weasley red. He slipped into the classroom, closing the door behind him, and sat down in a row at the back of the room.

Professor Flitwick had just finished the calling of the roll, and began to explain the aims of his class, when to door opened again. He looked up from his notes and frowned. 'Ah, Miss Granger. So nice that you decided to join us. Five points from Gryffindor!'

Hermione's response wasn't audible. Harry sighed inwardly, but didn't look around, resolving he would get to the bottom of Hermione's problems when he talked to Ron that night.

Like Professor Metcalfe in Transfiguration, Professor Flitwick also had prepared a written and practical test for them, 'to get an idea where you are, and to find out on what we have to work on,' he told them. The test was difficult, Harry had to admit, but as in Transfiguration before, he had no problems to complete the written part of the test, and breezed through the practical part. Again, he was finished first, and Professor Flitwick sent him out of the room.

Daphne was almost done with the practical part; Lisa and Terry were midway through it. He slipped out of their row without disturbing them and walked towards the door. A quick glance at Ron and Hermione, who shared a table in the last row, told him that the happenings of Transfiguration repeated themselves in Charms. While Ron seemed to do reasonably well on the practical part, Hermione once again was in over her head and seemed to struggle with each spell.

She looked up when Harry passed her. There was an expression of desperation in her eyes Harry had never seen in them before, not even when they got caught last year and were brought to Malfoy Manor to face Voldemort. He slowed his steps and sent an encouraging smile to her, before he slipped out of the room. He settled down in one of the window seats, and waited for his wife and his friends to show up.

Daphne came out of the room a few minutes later. 'Let's have an early lunch, so that we can make the last preparations for the first year orientation,' she suggested, and linked arms with him.

Harry cast a glance towards the classroom door. He didn't want to leave until he saw how Hermione was doing, but he also knew that Daphne was right. They still had some last minute preparations left to do before the first year orientation could start. His obligations as head boy were at war with his wish to support Hermione. However, her behaviour towards Ron that morning indicated that she was not yet ready to accept help. He would have to wait what Ron had to say about the situation, before he could make an informed decision. With an inward sigh, Harry gave in to the demands on the head boy and allowed Daphne to lead him away.

The bell had not yet rung for lunch break when they walked into the Great Hall, but the tables were already set for lunch. A few older students, who had had a free period, were eating their lunch. Daphne and Harry took a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table. As soon as they sat down, a bowl of soup and a platter of sandwiches appeared in front of them.

The demanding morning with two written and practical tests had given Harry an appetite, and he filled his bowl with the delicious smelling lentil soup and took a sandwich. He didn't look up again before he had satiated his first hunger.

Daphne was toying with the small helping of lentil soup in the bowl in front of her, but not really eating anything.

'Aren't you hungry, kitty?'

His words startled her out of her thoughts. 'Not really,' she admitted, and cast him a small smile while she continued stirring her soup with her spoon. 'It's always like this after tests; I feel choked and can't eat.

That was a feeling he understood only too well. He remembered the many times, especially in his fifth year, when he had been under such an enormous pressure that his stomach felt like a pit of liquid fire, and he had hardly been able to eat.

He motioned with his free hand towards a basket with fruits a little further down the table. 'You'd better take an apple with you for later,' he advised. 'You'll be famished as soon as the stress wears off.'

'Good idea,' she nodded, but made no move to follow his advice.

Since Daphne obviously wasn't in the mood for talking, they finished their meal in a companionable silence.

Their mutual friends entered the Great Hall when they had just finished their meal, and got up to gather the items they would need for the First Year Orientation from their apartment. Ron and Hermione were not with them. They waved at their friends, and then left the Great Hall.

There still was no sign of Ron and Hermione among the students that flooded to the Great Hall when they walked up the staircase; Harry's heart sank. He could only speculate that Hermione again needed some alone time after the disastrous Charms class, and that Ron had stayed with her to comfort her. He remained in a pensive silence until they reached their apartment.

'I'll just look after Lizzie,' Daphne announced, and opened the door to the kitchen where they had left the kitten in the morning.

'Alright,' Harry agreed, and continued to the living room to gather the stack of parchment with the list of tasks for the scavenger hunt from Daphne's desk, where she had put it that morning before classes.

'What are _you_ doing here?' Daphne exclaimed, and he stopped in his tracks. He turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

He peeked into the room. 'Are you alright, Daphne?' he asked.

Instead of an answer, she motioned with her hand towards the basket of the kitten.

'What the…!' he gasped.

Miss Elizabeth Bennett lay in her basket, fast asleep, and cuddled up to a contentedly purring Crookshanks.

Daphne turned around to him. The surprise on her face mirrored his. 'I swear I closed the door to our apartment behind us as we left for breakfast this morning. I've no idea how he got in.'

Harry stepped to his wife and put his arm around her shoulders, while he regarded the two animals with a broad grin. 'Don't worry about that, love. Cats and Kneazles have a way to get in where they want to get to. They look cosy, don't they?'

Daphne let out an exasperated sigh at that remark. 'Too cosy, if you ask me. Lizzy will be a grown up Kneazle sooner than we'll know. Crookshanks is a tomcat. I don't think he's been neutered. If we're not careful, this castle will be teeming with Kneazles before we know what happened to us.'

 **MY**

Lunch was almost over when they reached the Great Hall. The first years all had huddled together at the end of the Hufflepuff table for lunch. Their cheerful and expectant chatter was the main source of noise in the spacious room. There was no mistaking that they were excited at the prospect of an afternoon of fun.

Harry snorted when registered that the invasion from firsties from all four houses at their table caused a lot of the older Hufflepuff students to take flight and seek refuge with their friends from other houses. The distinctive yellow trimming of their robes could be seen at all four tables, even at the Slytherin table, Harry noticed to his surprise.

Headmistress McGonagall and the other professors looked at the mingling houses with an indulgent eye, and made no effort to suppress the noise the excited firsties caused. Just the contrary, by the looks on their faces they seemed to enjoy the spectacle immensely.

Daphne stopped when they reached the Great Hall. She smiled, taking in the happily chatting students and the mixed tables.

'It's so good to see laughing students in the Hall, and hear the chatter,' she said quietly.

Harry gave her a curious side glance while he led her to the Gryffindor table, where their mutual friends sat together. Ron had joined them, but there was no sign of Hermione.

'Why's that?' he asked.

'You have no idea how it was in this school under the Carrows last year,' she explained. 'If you thought Umbridge was bad with the way she tried to oppress us, you haven't seen the Carrows yet. In contrary to Umbridge, they were magically capable and strong enough to enforce their rule of horror. Admittedly, it doesn't take much more to cast the Torture Curse than a twisted mind; however, their minds were very twisted. They didn't tolerate talk and laughter during the meals: everyone who dared to whisper got a week of detention with them. Even firsties weren't spared from that rule; one of them didn't survive it.'

Harry shuddered. A black veil seemed to have lowered itself over the Great Hall, blending out the cheerful chatter and laughter. He tried to imagine the fear-stricken silence in the Great Hall, and the students hunkering over their plates, all desperately trying not to attract the attention of the sadistic siblings. He could almost feel the secret relief of the students who had escaped for yet another time when a new victim was singled out - and their guilt about that.

He didn't notice that Daphne called his name, and startled when she touched his arm.

'You've completely zoned out for a moment,' she excused herself as he jumped.

'Sorry, love,' he gave her a weak smile. 'I tried to imagine how it was here under the reign of the Carrows.' He shook himself, banning the image Daphne's words had conjured into the back of his head. 'You're right, this is so much better!' He motioned with his hands to the four house tables.

Daphne took his arm and guided him to a free spot at the Gryffindor table, next to Neville. The moment they sat down, Seamus Finnigan pushed his bowl back and stood up. 'Sorry, I've gotta go now. The air around here is suddenly _poisoned_.'

Dean watched the retreating back of his best friend with a frown on his face. Then he turned to Daphne. 'Sorry, Daphne, I've no idea what's wrong with him these days. By now he should know that you weren't like Malfoy and his kind.'

Daphne sighed. 'I don't blame him, Dean. You weren't here last year, and have no idea how it was. Torture was a part of our daily life. Half Bloods like Finnegan were on top of the list of the Carrows, and he got it daily; they almost killed him.'

'I'll give you that. But, that wasn't your fault; Seamus should know that,' Dean objected.

Daphne gave him a long look. 'I took Defense last year, Dean. You've probably heard what that class was about. I chose to cast the Torture Curse on my classmates, so that _I_ wouldn't be on the receiving end of it. Not that it helped me to escape in the long run,' she added, bitterness in her voice. 'I'm not proud of what I've done last year, Dean, and I don't blame Seamus that he despises me for that.'

Her words were met with silence from the seventh years who had gathered at the Gryffindor table.

Harry's head spun. Daphne had cast the Torture Curse on her classmates? He never would have thought that of her. She was so warm and caring; he always had had the impression that she was incapable to harm anyone. Except when her ire was provoked, or someone she loved was harmed. Then she could turn into a lioness. He looked at his wife as if he saw her for the first time.

Then Parvati cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 'Don't put yourself down, Greengrass. Remember, we were always partnered in Defence. You shook like a leave each time you had to cast that curse on me. You didn't mean it to work, and so it didn't much more than to raise me a couple of feet from the ground and spin me around. Of course, I screamed like a banshee, and feigned to be completely out of it each time. It wouldn't have done to let the Carrows know what was going on, would it?'

Her remark caused Neville to chuckle. Harry remembered how he had told him, Ron, and Hermione on their way from the Hog's Head to the Room of Requirement how the Gryffindors used to act under the Torture Curses thrown by the the incapable members of Slytherin, though he had only mentioned the males back then.

Daphne gasped at Parvati. 'You mean… you mean I didn't hurt you?'

'Not once,' Parvati confirmed, a tense little smile played around her lips.

Daphne covered her face with the palms of her hands. Her shoulders shook.

Nobody said a word; they were all lost in their own memories of the war.

Harry put his arm around Daphne's shoulder and pulled her close. 'Did I ever tell you how I cast the Torture Curse on Amycus Carrow? In contrary to you, I meant it to work, and work it did.' The satisfaction about that was palpable in his words.

Her head shot up, and she looked at him with bloodshot eyes, an incredulous expression on her face, while the last tears still ran down her cheek. 'You, Harry? Impossible!'

Some of his classmates obviously shared her opinion. 'No way, mate!' Dean protested, while Parvati gaped at him.

Ron, however, gave him a sad, little smile over Parvati's head, and Neville looked as if he wasn't surprised at all. Lisa and Terry and Ernie and Morag had pensive looks on their faces, but they also didn't look surprised.

The firm conviction in his wife's voice warmed Harry's heart. 'Yet I did,' he contradicted. 'Mind you, I'm not proud of it, but it felt damned good!'

Daphne still stared at him as if she didn't trust her ears.

Neville, however, chuckled. 'Well, he certainly deserved it,' he remarked, and all the seventh years who had stayed at Hogwarts during the last year nodded their agreement to his statement. He looked at Harry. 'Do you mind to tell us how it happened?'

Harry winced. He didn't like to talk about the past, but one look at the still confused face of his wife told him that he owed her an explanation.

'Well, it happened in the Ravenclaw common room. I had gone there with Luna to find out where one of the - items - we needed to destroy to get rid of Voldemort was hidden.'

None of his classmates even flinched as he mentioned the feared name.

'Alecto had got wind that I was in the castle, and waited in the Ravenclaw common room for me. Luna stunned her. Amycus was outside and wanted in to help his sister, but he was too dumb to answer the riddle and get in.'

That had his classmates laugh out loud. Even Daphne let out a rather watery chuckle.

'While he was still pounding at the door and cursing the knocker, Professor McGonagall appeared on the scene, and he ordered her to open the door. Of course, _she_ had no problem to answer the riddle.'

Ignoring the chuckles of his friends, he went on, 'Well, when Amycus came in, he saw his sister unconscious on the ground, but no sign of me.' Harry grinned at the memory of the idiotic face of the oaf.

'How's that?' Lisa asked. 'I know for sure there's no place in the common room where you could've hidden.'

Harry's grin got even broader. 'I own an Invisibility Cloak,' he admitted, and his friends gasped in surprise. 'Luna and I hid beneath it. Unfortunately, Alecto had already pressed her Dark Mark to signal to Voldemort that he had cornered me. Voldemort was never one who took it kindly when one of his followers summoned him in vain, so you can imagine that Amycus was quite distraught.'

'I imagine,' Lisa grinned, while Terry, Ernie and Neville howled with laughter.

Harry's face turned grim. 'What happened next was not so funny. Amycus had the bright idea to blame the Ravenclaw students for summoning Voldemort in vain, in the hope he would kill a couple of the students, and spare him and his sister.'

That remark instantly sobered his friends. The girls looked positively green.

'You can imagine that Professor McGonagall didn't took that idea kindly,' he continued his tale. 'She really laid into him. I don't remember what he replied, but next thing I knew is he spat her square in the face. Something snapped in me right then, and I saw red. I stepped out from under my cloak, and cast the Torture Course at him. I really meant to hurt him, and I got him good.' Retelling the story, he could still feel the satisfaction of the moment he saw the sadistic Carrow sibling writhe in agony under his spell. He shrugged his shoulders. 'I admit it was one of my less than stellar moments, but it felt damned good!'

Daphne linked her arm with his, and leaned her head at his shoulder. The tear tracks were still visible on her face. 'You're such a Gryffindor, love,' she sighed. 'What did Professor McGonagall say?'

'She told me that it was very gallant of me,' Harry replied sheepishly.

That had his friends chuckle. 'Well, she's always had a soft spot for you, Harry,' Neville remarked. 'I would've done the same in your place.' Ron and Dean nodded to that, and so did Ernie and Terry, to Harry's surprise.

'My knight in shining armour,' Daphne smiled, and ran a hand through his hair. Her eyes had lost the haunted look, he noticed, and he let out a sigh of relief.

They were interrupted by the bell that announced the end of the lunch break. As one man, the firsties turned around and looked at Harry and Daphne. The excited expectation on their faces had Harry laugh. He stood up and took Daphne by the hand to haul her up. 'Come on, love, circus time!'

She laughed at that, but followed him to the front of the hall.

Harry pointed his wand at his throat and silently cast 'Sonorus!' Aloud he said, 'May I ask the prefects to join us?'

From all tables the prefects walked towards them. A quick count of heads told Harry that Hermione was the only prefect who chose not to participate. They told the prefects to pair up, and then sent them to designated spots around the castle. Harry wasn't surprised as he saw Tori and Gideon walk out of the Great Hall to their post hand in hand. Of course, Daphne had also noticed, and she rolled her eyes. Harry chuckled, which got him a mock-glare from his wife.

'You shouldn't support them,' she told him under the cover of the chatter of the overexcited firsties.

'If you were that angry about their relationship as you pretend to be, you already would've done something about it,' he replied, while he divided the stack of parchment with the tasks into several smaller ones. That remark got him a real glare from his wife, but it was half-hearted, at best, proving his point.

Ignoring him for the moment, Daphne cast the Sonorus Charm on herself and addressed the firsties, explaining the rules of the game, and finally asking them to sort themselves into groups of four, with one member of each of the houses in each group.

The firsties managed that much quicker than Harry had thought possible, but also with at least twice as much noise as he had thought the sorting demanded. Finally, each of them grabbed a sheet of parchment, and the hordes stormed out of the Great Hall.

The silence they left behind was the sweetest sound Harry had ever heard, and he let out a relieved sigh. A chuckle behind him made him turn around.

Professor McGonagall stepped down from the podest, pulling earplugs out of her ears. 'You handled that flea circus really well, Daphne and Harry.'

Harry stared at the earplugs in her hands. 'Why didn't I think of that?' he exclaimed.

Daphne and Professor McGonagall laughed at the comical expression on his face. 'When you have so many years dealing with excited first years under your belt as I have, Harry, you'll learn to be prepared,' the usually so stern headmistress told him with a prim smile. 'I see you have everything well in hand. Unfortunately, I can't stay and wait for the winning team to return, but I'll be back when you award the prices. One of the joys of being headmistress is the neverending stack of governmental tasks that need to be finished.' She gave them a small nod and then briskly walked out of the Great Hall.

For the first time in all of his Hogwarts years, Harry found himself almost alone in the huge room. He straddled one of the benches at the Ravenclaw table, and pulled Daphne with him.

She followed with a small giggle and sat down, her back leaned against his chest.

Harry put his arms around her and leaned his head on hers, letting the now familiar scent of her hair wash over him. However, their time of silent relaxation wasn't long. After not even forty minutes the first group of firsties stormed back into the Great Hall. Harry wasn't amazed that it was Cassie's group, and he gave her a wink.

They handed their parchments to Daphne, and Harry helped his wife to check if they had completed all the tasks correctly. They had; which would make them the winner of the hunt, since they came back first.

The next group arrived not even five minutes later, also with all tasks completed correctly, and from then on the groups returned in quick succession. Of course, the noise level rose with each returning group, until Harry wished he had asked Professor McGonagall to leave her earplugs with him.

The prefects returned together with the last groups, all eager to watch the presentation ceremony. Professor McGonagall also returned, as she had promised, and had the four heads of houses in tow.

Harry never would have thought that his former Head of House would do it, but when he asked her, she awarded the prices - an assortment of sweets from Honeydukes Daphne had bought - to the three winning teams, among much laughter and applause. Afterwards, Headmistress McGonagall invited the first years and the prefects to refreshments. The five teachers sat down among the students at the Ravenclaw table.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a smile. That had gone much better than they had dreamt.

Study time had already begun when Professor McGonagall called an end to the festivities. The firsties - on a collective sugar high - stormed off to their common room. The prefects and professors followed in a more sedate place.

'What now?' Daphne asked, linking arms with Harry as they ambled out of the Great Hall. 'We don't have any homework. What do you think about a walk around the lake or would you like to see the new common room?'

Harry looked down on her, an expression of regret on his face. 'Neither, nor,' he replied. 'I ought to use the unexpected free time to get my mail done; I haven't emptied the Banishing Box yesterday.'

Daphne made a face at that. 'I can't complain about that, can I? After all, I'm the one who's always nagging you to keep up with your obligations. Oh well, I'll come with you. I wanted to decorate our rooms, anyway.'

Back in their rooms, they both in mutual silent agreement changed from their bulky school robes into jeans and sweaters. Then Harry sat down at his desk. As he had expected, the Banishing Box was full to the brim with letters from the goblins and his Muggle managers. With a sigh, he read his way through the letters, and then pulled parchment and a quill towards him and began to write. Two hours later, his hand began to cramp, and he had a kink in his neck, but was also awarded with the satisfying feeling of having his duties fulfilled.

He stretched, then sniffed. A wonderful aroma permeated the small apartment. He stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Daphne was setting the table. As she heard his steps, she looked up and smiled. 'There you are! I was just about to call you for dinner.'

His gaze fell on a delicious looking and even better smelling shepherd's pie on the table. 'I had no idea you can cook,' he said as he pulled out the chair.

'I can't,' his wife replied. 'But I can call Breezy.'

Harry broke out into laughter, and sat down at the table. Daphne sat down opposite of him. She looked tired, he observed. He vaguely recalled that he had seen her walking in and out of the living room, each time carrying photos, cushions or vases or pots with flowers in her hand, and assumed that she had had a busy afternoon. He couldn't tell what exactly she had done to their apartment, but the rooms seemed much cosier now.

After their meal, they washed the dishes together.

'Are you a wizard or what?' Daphne snorted as Harry started to scrub the plates the Muggle way, but nevertheless she picked up a teatowel and started to dry the dishes.

He looked up from the soapy water in front of him, and grinned. 'I know. But I've done this so often, it's become second nature for me. Mrs. Weasley always made us clean the Muggle way. She said it was character building; guess after all the cleaning she and my relatives made me do I have lots of character.'

Daphne laughed. 'What does that say about me? I hardly ever had to help in the house, and the little I had to do I was allowed to do by magic.'

He joined her laughter, while he rinsed the last plate, and let the water out of the sink. He dried his hands and then pulled her close. 'I don't know. I like you just the way you are.'

The dishes forgotten, Daphne slung her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. His hand stole under her sweater, causing shivers of pleasure running along her spine. She moaned softly, and pulled him closer towards her.

A knock on the front door of their apartment interrupted what promised to become a very pleasant way to pass the rest of the evening.

'Damned!' Harry cursed. 'I completely forgot I asked Ron to come over tonight.'

'Language, love,' his wife reprimanded him, adjusting her sweater, but she didn't sound convincing. 'Why did you ask him to come over?'

Harry ran a hand through his hair, already turning around and walking to the door. 'I'm still concerned about Hermione. The only one who probably knows what's wrong with her is Ron. I want to know if there's something I can do.' he told her over his shoulder. He walked into the hallway, never noticing the shadow that crossed Daphne's face, and the way she bit her lips as she watched his retreating back.

'Come in,' Harry told his friend as he opened the door. He led Ron into the living room. 'Have a seat. I'll see if I can find a few butterbeers in the pantry.'

However, before he could turn around, Daphne walked into the room, carrying two bottles of butterbeer in her hands. She gave Ron a smile in greeting, and put the bottles on the table. 'I think I'll go and find Tori for a chat, so you two can talk in privacy,' she told Harry as she straightened up.

'You don't have to leave because of me, Gr… Daphne. Actually, I'd appreciate if you stayed; Harry and I probably can use some female insight,' Ron's voice held her back.

Daphne startled. Her eyes got wide for a moment as she stared at Ron, but then she smiled. 'Alright. Wait a minute, I'll just get myself a bottle of butterbeer.' She walked back into the kitchen, and returned not even a minute later, a bottle in her hand.

Ron had sat down in one of the armchairs, and Harry lounged on the sofa. He reached out with his hand and pulled her beside him. Daphne made herself comfortable and took a sip of her butterbeer.

An awkward silence settled on the room. Both young men sipped their butterbeers, not quite looking at each other. Finally, the silence was broken by Harry. 'What's wrong with Hermione, Ron? She acts completely out of character. Not to mention, that I never saw her fail a test. What's happened to her in Australia?'

Ron leaned forward in his chair, putting his bottle on the coffee table in front of him. He propped up his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face with both hands, while he let out a long sigh. When he looked up at Daphne and Harry, an expression of utter helplessness was etched on his face.

'I've no idea, mate. I doubt it began in Australia; I think she's never really recovered from what happened at Malfoy Manor.' He flicked an uneasy glance towards Daphne. 'Sorry, mate, I have no idea what you told your wife about the last year, and what she's supposed to know.'

Harry felt how Daphne stiffened by his side. He cast her a quick side glance, and was aware that she had assumed a bland expression, a sure sign that she kept her emotions under tight control. He knew it was his fault; he should have told her everything by now. She deserved it; she had shown him again and again that she was not only trustworthy, but cared for him deeply. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to talk about the last year; it was still too fresh, and some wounds were still too raw to be touched.

'We covered a couple of things so far, but not everything. I don't think we spoke about Malfoy Manor yet.' He put his arm around Daphne and pulled her close. 'Sorry, love, it's got nothing to do with you. You know that I trust you. It's only - it's so damned hard to talk about it, and I never was one for talking.'

Daphne turned her head and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, while her hand caressed his other cheek. 'I told you that I'm aware that there are a lot of things you don't want to talk about, Harry. It's alright with me that you take your time.'

He dropped a kiss on her head. 'Thank you, love,' he murmured. He turned to Ron. 'Just go ahead; you don't have to mind your words in front of Daphne.'

Ron cracked them a small grin, though there wasn't any humour in it. 'Good to know. This would be somehow awkward to talk about if I had to be mindful of what to say.' He took another swig of his butterbeer, as if to fortify himself, and then started talking.

'We were caught around the end of March by a bunch of snatchers, and taken to Malfoy Manor…'

Harry's face darkened. 'Thanks to an idiotic mistake on my part,' he added.

Ron seemed to be about to object, but was beaten to it by Daphne. 'We all make mistakes, Harry. You're no exception to that,' she told him, running a hand through his hair.

He wasn't consoled. 'I should've known better!'

'Probably,' his wife agreed, a small smile playing around her lips. 'But you're not an almighty god, love. You're just Harry, who has to be nagged to look at his mail, and who can't think straight before he's had his first cup of tea in the morning.'

Harry made a face at her last words, but he actually chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'Thank you, love. I needed that.'

Ron regarded Daphne with a strange look on his face. 'You actually care about _Harry_ , don't you? You're not a fangirl.' It sounded as if that was a new revelation to him.

Daphne snorted at his words as she snuggled against Harry. 'I never was. It's impossible to become a Potter fangirl when you're living in the dungeons. I had another set of misconceptions about this one that were completely shattered the moment I really talked to him for the first time.'

She exchanged a reminiscent smile with Harry at the memory of the night they had met.

Ron cleared his throat, bringing them back to reality. 'Good,' he said. 'Well, Malfoy Manor was Voldemort's headquarters. Lucky for us, he wasn't there, but the Malfoys were - and Bellatrix Lestrange.' He spat the last name.

Daphne shuddered. 'I've been told she was completely deranged,' she said.

'That's not covering half of it,' Ron replied darkly. He took another swig of his butterbeer. 'Hermione had jinxed Harry's face. He looked horrible, and they didn't recognise him or me, although I suspect that Malfoy did, but for once in his life did the decent thing and kept his mouth shut.'

Harry nodded to that.

'Confirming your identity amounted to signing your death sentence,' Daphne interjected. 'Draco's a slimy little piece of shite, but he hasn't in him to kill someone.'

'Well, Hermione wasn't that lucky,' Ron went on with his story. 'While Harry and I were held captive in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix tortured Hermione to learn about our whereabouts, and to find out what we were up to.' He closed his eyes. A violent shudder went through his body. Harry knew what he was thinking of. He also remembered the seemingly endless time in the dark cell, when they had to listen to Hermione's screams. 'She cast the Torture Curse on Hermione, again and again. We heard Hermione scream…' Ron's voice trailed off, and he gulped. 'You should've thought that by the number of curses and the power that madwoman put behind them her brain had turned to mush. Even under the Torture Curse, she managed to keep her wits about herself, and feed Bellatrix a story.' The pride in his words was evident.

Daphne listened with wide eyes, not realising that her hand clawed Harry's sweater.

'Harry and I managed to escape from the cell where we were held captive. How, that's a story for another day and a bottle of firewhisky.' Again, he took a swig of his butterbeer. 'When we reached the parlour where Bellatrix tortured Hermione, she just was finished with her, and was about to give Hermione to Greyback as a reward.'

Daphne let out a small whimper at that, her hand pressed before her mouth, and stared at Ron with wide open eyes.

'It didn't come to that. With the help of a friend, we managed to escape yet another time. However, Hermione was buried under the heavy chandelier of the parlour before that. Our friend apparated us away, to the cottage of my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife. We stayed there for a couple of weeks to recuperate, and prepare our next steps.'

He took a deep breath, and again rubbed his face with both hands. 'Hermione had been under the Torture Curse for a very long time, and suffered from the repercussions. Her nerves had been damaged, not to mention the trauma she'd been through. Fleur - that's my sister-in-law - did everything in her might to patch her up, but she isn't a Healer. All she could do was giving her Pepper-up Potion so that she could make it through the day, and Dreamless Sleep Potion so that she could sleep at night, and hope that time would help her to overcome it all. She still wasn't back to normal when we set out for our last, hair-raising adventure.'

'You mean the break-in at Gringotts?' Daphne asked.

Ron nodded. 'You told her about that, mate?'

Harry gave him a sheepish grin. 'It was somehow hard to avoid. Due to the way we got married, Daphne had become financially dependant on me. I had just left _The Burrow_ and no idea about the state of my affairs with the goblins, except what Kingsley had told us directly after the Battle. Daphne pointed out that we both still had to finish our education, and that we'd better make sure if we had enough money to last us through the next couple of years. I had to take her to Gringotts to give her access to my vault, but I had no idea how the goblins would react to me turning up at the bank. So, I had to tell her about the break-in.'

They laughed about that. Daphne stood up and got them another round of butterbeer. Ron thanked her with a nod as he accepted his bottle, and then went on with his story.

'We had no time to catch our breath after our break-in at Gringotts. Voldemort now knew what we were doing, and he came after us. Harry found out that one of the things we still needed to bring him down was hidden at Hogwarts, so we went there.'

He took a sip of his butterbeer and glanced at Daphne. 'I've been told you were the only one of your house not to leave the castle when Slughorn evacuated the Slytherins, so I guess you know everything about what happened during the next hours. While the professors and students were preparing the castle for the fight, and then the Battle began, Harry, Hermione and I were taking care of the last of Voldemort's trinkets.'

Daphne frowned at his choice of words, but didn't interject.

'We made it through the battle almost without a scratch,' Ron went on. 'However, Hermione was deeply impacted by what Harry did to himself when he met Voldemort in the forest.'

Harry shifted in his seat. 'Actually, that's one of the things I haven't talked about with Daphne yet, and I guess she needs to hear it from me.'

'I thought as much,' Ron replied with a sad grin. 'I'd suggest you come clear with her soon, mate. There are definitely dumber things you can do than to confide in your wife, you know.'

Harry stared at him. 'Who are you, and what've you done with Ron Weasley?'

Ron chuckled at that. 'Actually, I have more than the emotional range of a teaspoon, no matter what Hermione told you, mate. I guess, even I had to grow up at some point and show it.'

Harry gave his friend a warm smile. 'I always knew you had, Ron,' he said softly.

Once again, Harry was thankful that his wife wasn't one to pry. She had listened to the exchange between him and Ron, but never uttered a word. He was aware of her thoughtful glance on him, and gave her a small smile. 'I'll tell you,' he promised.

'Whenever you're ready, love,' she replied, and kissed his cheek.

'After the battle came the funerals,' Ron continued. 'I'd lost one of my brothers during the battle, and I was a mess. Hermione and I'd got together during the battle, and she was there for me all the time.' His ears turned red at that.

Harry began to chuckle. His chuckles soon turned into a full blown laughter.

Daphne looked at him with raised eyebrows. 'What's so funny bout that?'

'I was there when they got together, you know. The battle had already started, and the castle shook under the attack. We were in the Room of Requirement. Ron said that someone should warn the house elves, so that they could get to safety. Well, you've seen on the train how Hermione's about house elf rights. She dropped everything she had in her hands, and leapt at Ron, and then kissed the living daylights out of him. Loverboy over there 'course got distracted by that, and replied in kind. I guess they'd have forgot everything about the battle, hadn't I reminded them.'

She joined his laughter. 'What did you do?'

'I shouted at them: _Oi, there's a battle going on_ , or something like that; I'm still amazed I got through to them, but it worked.'

Ron had turned a spectacular shade of Weasley red during Harry's story, but joined their laughter. 'I guess, it was funny,' he admitted. 'After the funerals, Hermione and I left for Australia; she wanted to find her parents, and I didn't want to leave her alone. Harry opted to stay in England.'

'I didn't want to be the fifth wheel on the waggon,' Harry informed his friend. 'Also, I thought I could get back with Ginny.' He grimaced at his last words.

Ron gave him a curious look. 'You never told me why exactly you broke up with her. I asked her, of course, and she told me it was a misunderstanding. Somehow, I don't believe that. I'd really like to hear your side of the story, mate.'

Harry gave him a long look. 'You didn't sound like that when you sent me that Howler, Ron.'

His friend blushed. 'Sorry about that. Old habits die hard, I guess. My first thought when I heard about your marriage to Daphne was how devastated my sister must be about that. Remember, I told you never to hurt her again, and I just assumed you were the one to blame. It wasn't until later, after I talked to dad, Bill, and Percy, that I realised you weren't the only one to blame, but I still like to hear it from you.'

'That's only fair,' Harry conceded. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'Well, at first everything was great between Ginny and me. About a week after the funerals, she became somehow demanding. I felt weak, and I had nightmares each night; all I wanted to do was sleep a lot, rest, and get to know my godson.' He took a sip of his butterbeer, and stared into space for a long time, obviously lost in his memories.

'Well, Ginny wanted nothing of that. She didn't like to visit with Teddy and Andy, and she didn't want to stay at _The Burrow_ day for day. You remember how it was in the weeks right after the battle, how the Aurors dropped laundry baskets full of mail at _The Burrow_ that had been sent to the Ministry because Kingsley had announced that as our official mail address? Do you remember how many invitations the three of us got to parties from people we'd never heard of?'

Ron nodded to that, a pensieve expression on his face.

'The invitations continued after you'd left,' Harry informed his friend. 'I could've attended two parties each night, had I wanted to. Of course, I didn't. Ginny, on the other hand…' His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

'She wanted to go out and party,' Ron finished the sentence for him. 'I've heard all about that from Bill; he was never one to sugarcoat things for us.'

'I wish I had a big brother like him,' Harry confirmed. 'Well, you know that Ginny and I are both short tempered. My refusal to leave _The Burrow,_ and her constant nagging to attend the parties led to more than one spectacular fight. I think we never stopped fighting since the day you and Hermione left for Australia, until I finally had enough, and broke up with her.'

Ron regarded him with a long look, then took another swig from his bottle. 'I can see what made you do that, mate.' He put the bottle on the table, and grinned at Daphne and Harry. 'However, I still don't fully understand what made you two elope on the same day; I think there's more to that story than you told us so far.'

Harry and Daphne exchanged a reminiscent smile. 'There is, Ron,' Harry confirmed, and pulled Daphne closer towards him. 'But that's a story for another day; tonight I want to know what's the matter with Hermione.'

Ron's face lost the humorous look. A grim line appeared around his mouth. 'At first, everything was wonderful. We arrived in Australia, and started searching for Hermione's parents. We spent each minute of the day with each other, and I think I've never been that happy in my life.'

He pinked slightly, and Harry and Daphne exchanged a knowing look, but refrained from any comments.

'I thought we'd go on like that for the rest of our lives. That was until we found her parents.' He grabbed for the bottle on the table, but didn't drink. Instead, he kept the bottle in his hands, as if he needed something to hold on.

'Hermione restored the memories of her parents. That was the moment everything got pear shaped. Her parents were furious about what she'd done. They really pressed her hard about that Obliviation stuff. Her father even refused to talk to her for a week. When he finally spoke to her again, she got nothing but accusations from them. They then cut off the money, telling her she shouldn't have squandered all her savings on our idiotic and unnecessary adventure, as they called it. They were of the opinion we should've let the authorities deal with Voldemort.'

Harry snorted at that, but not out of amusement. 'In that case he probably would've taken over all of Europe by now, and would set out for overseas.'

'Most likely,' Ron agreed. 'But they didn't believe a word of what we told them. They accused us that we only wanted to skip school for a year, and fool around with their daughter. They got mad beyond belief when they heard that you spent a couple of weeks alone with Hermione in that tent while you were on the run, mate. Be glad you never heard the accusations Mr Granger made against you. As if you ever would've thought of touching Hermione, given the way you were pining for Ginny back then.'

He interrupted himself, and took a sip of his butterbeer. Harry didn't dare to look at him, afraid that the expression on his face would give him away to his best friend. Instead, he employed the calming exercises Daphne had shown him to maintain a bland face, thankful when she put her hand on his thigh in silent support.

'Then they sent her back to England. I know that Hermione writes to them every other day, but until now she never received a reply. It's eating her up, Harry,' Ron continued his story. 'She hasn't been the same ever since then. She's forever crying, and she's got problems to concentrate. Her magic has also suffered, though it's eventually getting better. Back in Australia, she wasn't able to perform the simplest spells for more than a week. I know that money's extremely tight for her. She's spent most of her savings during last year, and she had to arrange a loan with Headmistress McGonagall to get her through her last year, but even so she barely had enough left to pay for her supplies. Mum and dad can't help, either. They already had to take out loans to get all of us through Hogwarts, and will be paying for that for a long time to come. On top of that, she's pushing me back; I'm afraid she'll end it with me any day now.'

Ron sighed, and leaned back in his seat. Though he still had an unhappy expression on his face, Harry could see that it had done him good to unburden himself. Knowing his best friend, Harry was sure that he hadn't talked about this with anyone until now.

Silence settled down on the three young people in the room, that was finally broken by Daphne. 'I can see why she's struggling with her schoolwork; constant sorrows can have an impact on your magic. Take the reaction of her parents on top of that, and the trauma she's suffered from the war, and it's no surprise that she's under such a pressure that she can't perform well.'

'Tonks lost her Metamorphmagus abilities when she was heartbroken about Remus,' Harry agreed, running a hand through his hair. 'Mrs. Weasley said back then that an emotional upheaval can impact our magic.' He turned to his friend. 'Thank you for telling us, Ron, though I admit I'm at a loss about how to help her right now.' That wasn't entirely true, but he had to talk to Daphne first before he told Ron, or Hermione, about his plan.

'You can't help her, except being there for her,' Daphne interjected softly. 'She needs to come to grips with her parents on her own terms, and she also needs to overcome the shadows of the past. You can be there for her to support her, but everything else has to come from her.'

The two young men made a face at that, but didn't contradict her. Somehow, Harry had the impression that Daphne was also talking about him.

Not long after that, Ron took his leave.

Harry saw his friend out of the door, and then returned to the living room. Daphne still sat on the sofa, looking into the flames of the fireplace with a pensive look on her face. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had climbed on her lap, and she stroked the kitten absentmindedly. She looked up when he returned into the room, and put the kitten to the ground.

'You want to help her.' It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Harry sat down beside her, and propped his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face with the palms of his hand. 'Yeah,' he admitted. He looked at his wife. 'I owe it to her; she made sure that I survived last year. She made all the preparations for our time on the run I never would've thought of, even if I had had the opportunity to leave the Dursley's house. She used her savings for me, and she saved me from that snake on Christmas, and nourished me back to health. Without her, I'd be dead now, Daphne.' He didn't mention that he also still felt guilty because he had used her while they were on the run. He knew his wife was shrewd enough to come to that conclusion by herself.

Daphne leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. 'I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. In spite of what the W - Ron told us about their relationship, I still don't trust her when it comes to you.'

He put his arm around her, and tilted her chin up with a finger so that she had to look at him.

'You're jealous,' he stated.

Daphne bit her lips, trying to evade his eyes. 'Yeah,' she finally admitted.

'You know you don't have a reason for that, love.'

She looked even unhappier at that. 'I know.' Her words were barely audible.

Harry put his arms around her and held her tight. 'I won't do anything about Hermione without your consent, love,' he whispered into her hair.

Daphne didn't reply to that. She leaned against him for a long time, obviously considering his wish. Then she seemed to have come to a decision. She straightened, pushing him gently away from her, and looked up to him. 'How do you want to help her, Harry?'

'I thought of making her a member of the Black family, like the Dursleys. I think it'll be easier for her to accept money from me that way, instead of just giving her a bag of galleons.'

Daphne's eyes darkened at that, and Harry realised that he had just confirmed her worst fears. She took a deep breath. 'Alright.'

He looked at her as if not believing his ears. 'Did you just agree, Daphne?'

She made a face at that. 'Yes. Mind you, I don't like it in the slightest, but I also don't want you to beat yourself up about her.'

He pulled her towards him once again. 'Thank you, love; you have no idea what that means to me.'

Daphne leaned against him as he kissed her, running her hand through his hair, and hoping that her decision would never come back to bite her.

 **MY**

Ron and Hermione didn't turn up for breakfast the next morning. Harry and Daphne had double Potions in the morning. The class was taken by all five Ravenclaws, and Ernie Macmillan as the lonesome Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, it was also one of the few classes they shared with Nott. He gave Daphne a polite bow when they reached the dungeons, but his eyes raked over her body in a way that made Harry's fists curl up on their own accord. Daphne slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him. 'Ignore him love; he does it on purpose to vex you.'

As Daphne had advised him, Harry ignored the Slytherin as they settled down at the workbench they shared with Terry and Lisa, but they both sent Ernie a sympathetic glance as Slughorn paired him up with Nott for the term.

'I'd like to get an overview where you stand,' Professor Slughorn began after the roll call. The class groaned as one. None of them was looking forward to another test.

'I'd like you to prepare a Potion that covers all the essential techniques of brewing. As homework, I want you to hand in an essay about the techniques you've applied, and why you chose them, and of course about the properties and the ingredients of that potion, but also the substitutes that can be used if not all ingredients are available,' Professor Slughorn told them. He tapped his wand to the blackboard. 'You'll find the recipe and the ingredients here. Begin.'

Harry groaned inwardly as he read the list of ingredients and the recipe. It sounded complicated, and he knew that without the book of the Half Blood Prince he didn't stand a chance to brew a halfway decent potion. He felt how Daphne touched his arm.

'Why don't you gather the ingredients while I copy the recipe, love?'

He nodded to that, and quickly jotted down the long list on a scrap of parchment. He had just finished that task, when the door to the potions lab flew open, and Ron and Hermione stormed into the room. The heads in the room jerked around to the newcomers almost as one, while Professor Slughorn looked at them with a deep frown on his jovial face.

'Miss Granger and Mr Weasley, five points from Gryffindor each for your tardiness. Take a seat here, where I can have an eye on you. Next time, I'd suggest to make it your first priority to arrive to your class in time, instead of taking a detour through a broom closet.'

A snigger went through the class. The deranged state of the clothing of his friends surely merited that suspicion, Harry thought. They both looked even worse than the day before. Knowing his friends, however, he was sure it was due to their habit to rely on him to get to classes in time in the morning.

Hermione turned a deep shade of red at Professor Slughorn's words, and she hurried to the place in the first row Professor Slughorn had indicated with her head hung low. Ron's ears shone like two beacons, and he looked as if he would like to give Professor Slughorn a piece of his mind, but then thought the better of it and followed Hermione without uttering a word.

Harry was impressed with his friend's newfound maturity. However, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand, so he walked toward the storage room. It took some time, and two returns to the classroom to deliver parts of his load, until he had everything on the list. When he returned, Daphne had not only copied the recipe, but already heated the amount of water that was needed, and begun to prepare the first ingredients. She shoved the Shrivelfigues towards him.

'Please, chop the Shrivelfigues and get the juice out of them. After that, you need to grind three porcupine quills to fine powder.'

One look at his wife and her deftly moving hands told him that she obviously knew what she was doing when it came to Potions, and he didn't mind in the slightest to be degraded to her hand. Remembering the instructions in the book of the Half Blood Prince, he managed to get an amazing amount of juice out of the Shrivelfigues, that had Daphne exclaim, 'How did you do that? I never get that much juice out of the damned things!'

'Trade secret,' he grinned, and started to grind the porcupine quills in his stone mortar. He took great pains to achieve the desired result - a very fine powder - and was rewarded by Daphne's approving smile and nod when he showed her the result.

She then set him to the task to supervise the time the potion was supposed to simmer, while she prepared the rat hearts. It was a difficile work. She had to separate the fibers, a feat Harry had never mastered. He didn't want to remember how many times Snape had given him detention for blotching up a potion because of that, he thought, while his eyes alternated between watching his wristwatch, and the graceful hands of his wife.

She finished the rat's heart fiber just in time, and added it to the potion in the exact right moment. The potion took on the shade of light blue it was supposed to have, and a light silver mist rose up from their shared cauldron.

'Excellent work, as usual, Mr Potter,' Professor Slughorn complimented him as he came to their workbench to supervise their progress.

'I had nothing to do with that; Daphne did all of the brewing,' Harry protested.

A chuckle shook Professor Slughorn's rotund body. 'That's very gallant of you, Mr Potter, to give your bride all the credit. Ah, to be a besotted young husband again!' Still chuckling, he turned away from them to look at Terry and Lisa's potion.

Harry turned to Daphne. 'I'm sorry, love.'

'Don't worry about that, Harry,' his wife smiled. 'The potion wouldn't have turned out that good, hadn't you managed to get that amount of juice out of the Shrivelfigues.'

There wasn't much more to do with their potion than to watch the time and stir it the required times clockwise and counterclockwise. Daphne showed Harry how to make a small mark in the rim of the cauldron with a temporary rune that allowed you to end the stirring exactly at the point where you had begun. He and Daphne then alternated stirring and watching the time.

They were the first to finish their potion. While Daphne brought their labelled phial to Professor Slughorn, who took it with a smile and a nod of approval, Harry started to clean their workbench. He let his eyes wander through the room while he did so.

All of his classmates seemed to be about in the last stages of brewing, with the exception of Ron and Hermione. They had started much later than the rest of them, and worked frantically to make up for lost time.

Even in normal circumstances, Ron was a lost cause when it came to potions, and Harry knew from experience that he was a danger to his partner as soon as he was under pressure. There had been a silent pact between Hermione and him that Ron was always partnered with her to prevent accidents.

Today, however, Hermione was acting like a headless chicken, if the disaster area the workbench in front of her looked like was anything to go by, and judging by the jerky movements she made while stirring the brown mud in their cauldron.

Harry saw it coming, but was too slow to prevent it. Hermione picked up the porcupine quills. They had forgot to ground them, Harry noticed. Instead of three, he counted at least five quills in her hand. Her hand moved to the cauldron.

Daphne, passing Ron and Hermione's workbench on her way back to her place, saw it at the same moment. 'Don't, Granger!' she shouted.

Every head in the room shot up, looking at Daphne and Hermione.

'What?' Hermione snapped back, and opened her hand to let the porcupine quills fall into the cauldron.

Harry watched them fall like in slow motion. He might not be as good at Potions as his wife, but even he knew that adding whole porcupine quills to an already botched up potion was a sure recipe to disaster.

And Daphne stood in front of the cauldron, unprotected.

The porcupine quills hit the surface of the potion.

Without thinking, his hands shot out. With one hand, he banished his wife back from the cauldron, and with the other hand he cast a dome-like shield over her.

At the same moment, the potion welled up like a geysir, covering Ron and Hermione's workbench with a thick, brown, acid-smelling mud.

Hermione and Ron had jumped back just in time, and now stared at the place where once had been their cauldron.

'That'll be zero marks for today, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger,' Harry heard Professor Slughorn's voice from far away. 'Fifty points from Gryffindor for a mistake even a first year knows to avoid, Miss Granger!'

Hermione stared at him, her face slowly turning a deep shade of red. She whirled around on the spot and stormed out of the room, leaving it to Ron to deal with the mess she had created.

Harry paid her no heed. His eyes were searching for Daphne. He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he saw her struggling to sit up in the corner beside the entrance to Professor Slughorn's office.

He rushed to her and crouched down beside her. 'Easy there, love! Are you hurt?'

'Only my ego,' Daphne replied with a grimace. 'My behind will be blue and green by tomorrow. I suppose I have to thank you that the cauldron didn't explode into my face, haven't I? You could've added a Cushioning Charm, you know,' she said in a weak attempt of humour.

'Sorry about that, kitty,' Harry replied, and put his arm around her to help her up. 'I'll think of that the next time, though I sincerely hope it won't come to that.'

'Merlin, no,' Daphne agreed, using his arm to haul herself off the floor. 'But you owe me a massage for that tonight, Potter!'

'Deal,' Harry grinned.

 **MY**

Neither Ron, nor Hermione showed up for lunch.

After the meal, the Potters, the Boots and Ernie decided to have a look at their new common room, and to work on their Potions assignment together.

'Wow,' Harry said as he walked into the spacious room. A row of tall lancet windows let in the sunshine, with cushioned window seats beneath them that made comfortable places for a game of chess or undisturbed talk. Two fireplaces flanked the huge room, and groups of chairs and sofas, scattered around low tables, invited the seventh years to gather for evenings of fun.

A lancet door lead into an adjoining room, and here the friends found tables and chairs for study. Bookcases with a small library provided the material needed for basic research. From there, another door led into a well warded training room.

Daphne linked arms with Harry. 'It seems Headmistress McGonagall really listened to you when you told her that there are more than enough empty rooms in this castle that could be put to good use.'

The group of five gathered around one of the tables in the study room and began to work. While Daphne, Terry and Lisa all made fast progress with their work, Harry and Ernie struggled. Lisa and Terry were already packing up their things and leaving for their own rooms, while Harry and Ernie were still brooding over their drafts.

'Will you let me have a look at what you've got so far?' Harry's concentration was interrupted by Daphne's voice.

'Huh?' He looked up. His hair was a mess, because he had clutched his hand in it more than once in his frustration about his lack of progress, and his glasses had slit down to the tip of his nose.

Daphne smiled, and pushed the glasses back to their original place with a finger. 'Your essay,' she then said, pointing to the piece of paper in front of him.

'Be my guest,' Harry sighed, and pushed the parchment towards her. 'I have no idea how to go on about this. I don't think I've covered all the techniques, and I'm at a complete loss when it comes to substitute ingredients.'

Ernie looked up from his work. 'Same here,' he admitted. 'Would you mind to have a look at my essay, too, Daphne?'

She nodded, a slight frown on her face, while she still read Harry's essay. When she was finished, she turned to Ernie's essay. The frown on her face deepened. Finally, Daphne looked up. 'Has nobody ever taught you the basics of potion brewing?' she asked.

Harry and Ernie exchanged an uneasy glance, both shifting in their seats.

'Err - I guess not,' Harry said. 'You know how Snape was; all he ever did was writing a recipe on the board and telling us to begin. It's not that he ever told us how or why we had to do things in a certain way.'

Daphne bit her lips. 'That's true,' she admitted. 'He limited that knowledge to the Slytherins. We all got tutored one afternoon a week in the Slytherin dorms by the older years, while Snape worked with the seventh years.'

'What?' Harry and Ernie shouted. 'You mean, he deprived three quarters of the school from a decent education in Potions to favour the Slytherins?' Ernie demanded clarification.

Daphne nodded to that. 'Unfortunately, yes.' She looked at the two young men in front of her. 'I've always assumed the other houses also had their system of tutoring to make up for that.'

'Hermione pulled me through,' Harry admitted, and Ernie said, 'I think I put in about ten hours a week revising for Potions.'

Daphne gave them a thoughtful look. 'I guess I have to make up for that.'

Over the next hour, Daphne explained to Harry and Ernie the different techniques to prepare ingredients and their pros and cons.

'Thank you, love, now a lot of that stuff makes more sense to me,' Harry said, and kissed his wife on the cheek.

'You can say that again,' Ernie agreed, rolling up the draft of his essay. ' I wish I'd known all that before the O.W.L.s. I was lucky that Slughorn became professor for Potions. Snape never would have accepted me with my grade.'

Harry nodded to that, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 'Same here. Do you mind to teach us some more, Daphne?'

She looked up to him, an impish grin on her face, as she linked arms with him to walk back to their rooms. 'Not at all. It's in my own interest, isn't it? I don't want you to spoil my potions grade. Not to mention, that you don't want to have to admit to your children one day that their mother beat you in every subject at your N.E.W.T.s.'

 **MY**

Harry and Daphne decided to have dinner in the Great Hall that evening, since they had the prefect's meeting to lead after that.

Again, Seamus glared at them as they entered the Great Hall, so they decided to join Ernie and Morag at the Hufflepuff table.

'This is getting old,' Daphne groused as they walked over.

'Absolutely,' Harry agreed. 'That's Seamus for you; nobody ever claimed that he has sense.'

She laughed at that, her bout of bad humour passing as quickly as it had come.

Harry looked around as he sat down. Terry and Lisa obviously had opted to stay in their rooms for dinner. Ron sat next to Neville, and Dean and Luna had joined Seamus and Parvati at the Gryffindor table. Hermione, however, didn't turn up for dinner, either.

'Where've you been at lunch, Ron?' he asked his friend after dinner, as they ambled to the room where the meeting took place, together with Ernie.

Ron blushed, and scratched the back of his neck. 'Well, Slughorn wasn't exactly happy with me. He made me stay and clean up the mess. I missed lunch, and was even late for Divination because of that. I was lucky that Trelawny had hit the sherry bottle again and didn't notice. Oh, and Hermione has detention with Slughorn on Saturday, because she stormed off; I'm not looking forward to having to tell her that.'

Harry's head shot around to his friend. 'You haven't seen her since Potions?'

Ron shook his head. 'No, I was with Slughorn, then I had Divination. I looked for her in the library at study time, but she wasn't there. Since Slughorn's already mad at me, I decided to start with the Potions essay, and I worked until dinner.'

'Alright, mate, what happened to you? Doing your homework right away is so unlike you,' Harry demanded to know.

His friend turned red. 'You know, I really want to become an Auror. I've always depended on Hermione with my homework, but it looks like she'll has enough on her plate with her own problems this year. So, I have to rely on myself to get my homework done.'

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and squeezed it lightly. 'I always knew you had it in you, Ron.'

Daphne looked past Harry at the lanky redhead. 'I've been tutoring Harry and Ernie in Potions this afternoon, Ron. We're going to make that regular and you're welcome to join us.'

Ron's face brightened at that. 'Thank you, Daphne, that's mighty decent of you.'

They had reached the door to the meeting room while they talked. Harry and Daphne took their places at both ends of the long table, while Ron sat down next to Harry and began talking about the chances of the Chudley Cannons for the next Quidditch Championship. Ernie, who sat next to Ron, threw in his two Knuts now and then, while eventually the other prefects arrived.

At the appointed hour, Daphne looked at her wristwatch and frowned. Everyone was there, except Hermione. She looked at Harry across the length of the table, clearly unsure whether to begin or wait for another five minutes. Harry indicated to her with a motion of his head to begin.

As at the first meeting, he left it to Daphne to lead the meeting. The first point on their agenda was to work out a schedule for the patrols. Since the upperclassmen all had individual timetables, it was more than inconvenient that Hermione chose not to attend the meeting. Luckily, Ron knew her timetable, so they avoided to give her rounds on the nights she had Astronomy.

Another problem was that all of the seventh year prefects refused to make rounds with her. 'I'm not willing to put up with her until she's changed her attitude,' Susan Bones summed up the general opinion. 'The way she behaved to you on the first meeting was appalling.' The other seventh year prefects nodded to that, albeit Ernie also gave his cousin-in-law an apologetic look.

Ron saved the day. 'Put me down as her partner for all of Hermione's patrols, Daphne,' he said. 'I'm used to her temper, as is Harry, but I suppose he prefers to do his rounds with you. Can't separate our honeymooners, can we?'

That caused an uproarious laughter that cleared away the tension, and a visibly relieved Daphne went on with the boring organisational part.

They were already finished with the organisational matters, and just moved on to a discussion of Daphne's idea for monthly social activities that had been approved by the board of governors, when the door to the room flew open, and Hermione stormed in. Without a word of apology, or even greeting, she rushed to the only free seat, next to Susan Bones. Susan made a face, and moved her chair as far away as possible from Hermione.

'Granger, how nice to join us,' Daphne said. Her eyes stared icy daggers at Hermione.

Hermione only huffed in reply, which caused a lot of whispering among the prefects. Harry noticed that Tori threw Hermione a murderous glare, and then said something to Gideon, who put his hand on hers, as if to calm her down. Knowing the impulsiveness of his young sister-in-law, Harry had a sense of foreboding, but decided that Hermione brought on everything Tori might do to her by herself, considering how she behaved towards Daphne.

Daphne decided to ignore Hermione, and went on with the meeting. The idea of the monthly social events was met with a lot of enthusiasm by the prefects, especially the idea of a monthly dance.

'We could have different mottos,' Susan Bones suggested. 'For example, a Muggle dance club for September, a Halloween dance for October, a Yule Ball in December…'

'A Valentine's Dance in February,' Tori chimed in, smiling at Gideon in a way that made the young man blush, and Daphne throw a disapproving frown in her direction. Tori responded by sticking out her tongue at her older sister. Harry was not the only one at the table who chuckled about the exchange of the Greengrass sisters.

However, he groaned inwardly when Hermione opened her mouth. 'Do you think it a good idea to distract the older years frequently with dances, Greengrass?' she interrupted the lively discussion. It was as if she had poured a bucket of icy water over them; Harry was sure the temperature in the room dropped several degrees as soon as she talked. 'After all, the fifth and seventh years have important exams this year. The dances already cut into our study time, not to mention the preparations that are necessary for that.'

Daphne whirled round to Hermione. Her eyes became two blue steel balls as she glared at the bushy-haired witch. 'Firstly, it's Potter. I think you should be able to remember that, Granger, since I'm married to your best friend. Secondly, what's your problem with me? We never talked more than twenty words before I married Harry, but you've been against me ever since then.'

Hermione recoiled under her stare. The room went dead silent, and the prefects present stared alternately at Hermione and Daphne in a way that reminded Harry of a tennis match.

It didn't take Hermione long to recover from Daphne's attack. 'You should've never become head girl, you cheating snake. You don't stop at nothing to get your way; you proved that again this morning when you sabotaged my potion.'

That accusation caused a collective gasp in the room.

Harry had heard enough. 'You know that's not true, Hermione. You made a dangerous mistake, and Daphne tried to warn you.' He was proud that he managed to keep his voice calm, though he had balled his hands to fists beneath the table.

Hermione whirled around to him. 'Of course you'll take her side. Don't you realise that she's got you under her control, Harry?'

Something exploded within Harry. He shot up from his chair. A few long strides brought him to Hermione. He grabbed her by her upper arm, and hauled her off her seat. 'That's enough, Hermione; this time you've overstepped the mark.'

Hermione tried to shake off his hand, but he held her in an iron grip.

'Let go of me, Harry,' she demanded. 'You hurt me.'

He didn't listen, and frog-marched her towards the door. 'You and I are going to have a talk about your attitude.'

'Harry, you're unreasonable,' Hermione protested, and stemmed herself against him.

'I don't think so,' Harry said with clenched teeth, and ignored the fascinated terror he saw on the faces of the prefects, and the apprehension in Ron and Daphne's faces. Only Tori gave him a very satisfied and smug smile.

Hermione still tried to prevent him from dragging her out of the room. Harry had enough. 'MOVE! NOW!' he yelled at her, and Hermione jumped.

She was not the only one in the room.

Harry yanked the door open and pushed Hermione through. She almost stumbled out onto the hallway.

'Meeting adjoined,' Daphne said, and gathered her papers in an untidy heap. Then she jumped up and ran to the open door while Ron followed close at her heels.

The next second, the reverberating bang of the door of an adjoining room being slammed shut echoed through the hallway.

The assembled prefects looked at each other and excited talk broke out around the table.

 **t.b.c.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **MY**

 **Author's notes:** A big thank you to Xavras, who edited this chapter with the speed of light. You rock!

Also, I've included a small moment as a kudos to Shygui's _A Fateful Walk._ If you haven't read it yet, try it; it's worth it. He gave me a good laugh with that mental image on a day when I really needed it.

 **MY**

Harry shoved Hermione into the empty classroom. The door slammed shut behind them with a reverberating bang.

Hermione whirled around. 'How do you dare…'

'How do _you_ dare treating my wife like that, Hermione?' Harry shot back, pointing at her with his index finger. 'I've kept my mouth shut at first, trying to give you time to get used to the fact that I'm married, and that Daphne plays a big part in my life, whether you like it or not. But you didn't try once. Since the first time you've met her after you'd returned from Australia, you acted as if she's taken something that belongs to you.'

'But she has - in a way. Don't you realise how she's come between you and your friends? You're so different now, Harry. You don't tell us things anymore, you don't need us for advice anymore… It has always been only the three of us. You didn't even let Ginny come between us, so why her? It's not that you married her out of love.' Tears brimmed in Hermione's eyes as she glared at him.

Harry stared at her, not believing his ears. He ran a nervous hand through his hair while he tried to come up with the right words to get through to Hermione; words that would make her understand the important part Daphne played in his life, and why things between him and his best friends had shifted. That was only natural when you got married, wasn't it? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Even though he was as angry at Hermione as never before during all the years of their friendship, he only wanted to make her see reason, but not to burn the bridges between them beyond repair.

'Look, Hermione, of course there are now parts of my life I'll only share with Daphne. And as my wife she has the right to be informed first of anything of importance that happens to me, even before my friends. That doesn't mean that I don't trust you, or won't inform you later. It only means that my focus has changed, as it should.'

Her lips quivered, and she averted her face. For a brief second, however, he saw the pain in her eyes. 'I don't want things to change. I don't want to lose our friendship.'

'Neither do I,' he replied. His heart softened at the misery in her eyes, and his voice lost a lot of the anger that had possessed him when they entered the room. He gently grabbed her by the arm and turned her around, so that she had to face him.

She complied, though she still lowered her eyes to the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.

'Look, Hermione, you're one of my oldest friends, and you stuck by my side in times when I had no one else left. You have no idea how much that means to me. But don't make me choose between you and Daphne: I will always choose Daphne, even though it'll hurt like hell if I'll lose you.'

Hermione's head jerked up, and her miserable expression was replaced by one of ire. 'I knew it! She has used love potions on you! How else are you even capable of contemplating to leave behind your oldest friends?'

Harry growled as the anger rose up in him once again.

A small hand touched his arm. He whirled around, only to look into Daphne's strained and pale face. Ron stood behind her, as tense as a bowstring. He had been so focussed on his talk with Hermione that he hadn't noticed them entering the room.

'I think you ought to tell Granger everything about the way we got married, Harry, or she'll never understand,' Daphne said.

He searched her face with his eyes. By now, he knew her well enough to be sure that she must feel extremely uncomfortable at the thought of sharing information as private as that with a girl who had treated her not better than dirt ever since they met. On top of that, Daphne and he had taken great pains that the circumstances of their wedding didn't become public. Nobody knew all the sordid details, except them.

'Are you sure about this, Daphne?'

She grimaced ever so slightly, but nodded. 'It needs to be done, or Granger and I will be forever at each other's throats. I won't have that. You've got enough on your plate already, all things considered.'

Harry bent down and kissed her cheek. 'Thank you, love,' he whispered in her ear. Straightening, he said, 'Why don't we all sit down? This is going to be a long talk.' He motioned with his hand to a couple of dust covered chairs that stood around two desks that had seen better days.

Daphne gave him a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. 'Are you a wizard, or what?' She raised her wand, and a second later the rickety school furniture had transformed into two overstuffed small sofas that faced each other over a coffee table.

'Right,' Harry said, and took Daphne by the hand and led her to sit down beside him on one of the sofas. 'This is going to be long and awkward, so we might as well be comfortable.' He didn't let go of her hand, thankful that he had her by his side during this difficult talk.

Hermione and Ron sat down opposite of them. Hermione's posture was as stiff as a ramrod, and she kept as much distance to Ron as was possible on the small sofa, while she glared at Daphne.

Harry sighed when he noticed the sad look in Ron's eyes.

'I already told you that Daphne and I met on the night I broke up with Ginny -' he began, but was interrupted by Hermione.

'Yes, we know that. We also know that you got drunk together and decided to elope because of that. Really, I don't know what else you've got to tell us about that night.'

Harry raised his hand to stop her. 'You only know the mere basics, Hermione. Besides that, it isn't polite to interrupt me.'

She huffed at that, but actually turned red and told him to go on with a motion of her hand, before she slumped back and crossed her arms before her chest. Her taught expression didn't bode well for her willingness to hear him out.

Harry sighed inwardly. He felt how Daphne pressed his hand in silent support, and he gave her a small smile before he tried to tell their story for a second time.

'What you don't know are the details that led to Daphne and my decision. I was feeling hurt that night, but not heartbroken. I'd known for a couple of weeks already that Ginny and I weren't going to last, but it took me some time to work up the courage to end it. I guess, I was kind of disappointed that she turned out to be rather different to the way I'd seen her when I thought of her during our time on the run. In hindsight, I've to say I should've expected something like that: she was my first steady girlfriend, and I had to end it with her because of the war while our relationship was still new. All my time on the run I spent pining for her. My picture of her was probably as realistic as a fairy tale, and my biggest mistake was to act on that dream when the war was over, and trying to pick up where we had left off. Consequently, our relationship failed, and I was looking for something to soothe my hurt ego when I entered that pub that night.'

Ron sniggered. 'Can't blame you on that, mate.'

'I was thinking along the lines of some pub grub and a couple of beers, but then I heard that bloke at the table next to mine molesting a young woman. She told him to leave her alone, but he'd already had at least one drink too many, so he wasn't willing to take no for an answer, and I decided I had to do something to help a damsel in distress.'

Harry and Daphne exchanged a reminiscent smile at that.

'I could've handled him on my own, you know,' Daphne said.

'Undoubtedly; but do you regret that I butted in?' Harry asked with a lopsided grin.

She shook her head. 'Not at all,' she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

Hermione watched their exchange with barely disguised impatience. 'Don't you tell me that you used magic on a Muggle, Harry James Potter,' she exclaimed.

Harry gave her a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. 'Well, I did.'

'And I'm thankful for that,' Daphne interjected. 'Mind you, I could've got rid of that troll myself, but not quite as elegantly as Harry did.'

'How did you do it?' Ron beat Hermione to the question that without any doubt was at the tip of her tongue.

'I cast a silent and wandless Confundus Charm on him that made him leave the pub,' Harry replied. 'As you can imagine, Daphne was rather puzzled about that. When she turned around to watch him leaving, I recognised her, and called her by her name. She picked up her glass and came over to my table, and we started talking.'

He exchanged another look with his wife, and then looked at his two friends. 'What you don't understand, though I tried to tell you before, is that there was a strong attraction between Daphne and me from that moment on.'

Daphne nodded to that.

'We both found it surprisingly easy to talk to each other. You know that I'm a very private person, and hardly share personal information. I had no problems in that regard with Daphne. Before I knew what had happened, I'd told her about my break-up with Ginny. That was mutual, I think, because during that first hour Daphne also told me some details about her life that are very private.'

Again, Daphne nodded, but she didn't interrupt him.

'At one point, we realised that there also was a strong physical attraction between us. We left the pub and started snogging. That soon got out of hand.' Harry blushed at that.

'You can say that again,' Daphne murmured, but she smiled.

'We were both rather drunk when that happened,' Harry continued the tale. He shared another smile with his wife, then again scratched the back of his neck. 'You know how it is when you're completely drunk: you'll say and do things that are illogical, but make complete sense to you.'

Ron sniggered at that, but was silenced when Hermione poked her elbow in his side, and scrunched up her nose in a way that reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia looking at a dirty floor. He decided to ignore her, and get over with their story.

'Daphne and I were no exception that night. We both wanted more than just kiss, if you get my drift, but Daphne told me we'd have to be married for that.'

'What did you expect? I was brought up to be a respectable Pureblood girl,' Daphne interjected, not heeding the dark look Hermione cast at her.

'So, in my inebriated state I went down on one knee and proposed.'

'And I accepted,' Daphne said. She pressed his hand as she continued the story, a strained expression on her face. 'What happened next was my fault. I told Harry that we had to go to Gretna Green to get married, and he told his house elf to apparate us there.'

Ron shook his head, but Hermione let out an hiss like an angry snake, her eyes shooting daggers at Daphne.

Reading the signs of another iminent outburst, Harry hurried to interfere. 'I told you on the day we discovered that we're married, and I'll tell you again, Daphne: it was not entirely your fault. Nobody forced me to propose, and nobody forced me to call Kreacher and tell him to bring us to Gretna Green. And most certainly nobody forced me to say "Yes, I do!" over the anvil.'

Daphne gave him a weak smile of thanks.

'You were drunk,' Hermione exclaimed. 'Surely you could've dissolved the marriage because of that as soon as you'd sobered up enough to think straight again.'

Harry exchanged another look with his wife. 'Well, that option already was impossible then,' he replied, blushing.

'Why's that?' Hermione demanded to know.

Ron came to their rescue, albeit with a rather red face. 'That should be obvious, Hermione. They already had consummated the marriage.'

Hermione looked scandalised, and her eyes swerved to Daphne, once again that unfathomable expression in them Harry couldn't read. He gave his friend a thankful nod.

'Right. I have to admit, my memories of what happened after we'd left the pub are hazy, and so are Daphne's. We know most of what happened from Kreacher, who was there ever since we'd left the pub. The first, clear memory I have is of waking up next to Daphne with a murderous hangover in the morning.' Again, he blushed.

Daphne laughed at that. 'You shrieked like a girl.'

'Yeah, and you told me you were about to die, so we're even, I guess,' Harry smirked back.

Hermione gaped at them, her incredulous stare alternating between Harry and Daphne.

'How can you joke about something as serious as this?' she exclaimed.

Harry let out a mirthless laugh. 'Believe me, Hermione, I didn't think it very funny that morning; not after Daphne told me that the magical world doesn't know the concept of divorce.'

'I also saw no reason to laugh back then, especially not when it dawned on me that we had married in Scotland and exchanged the ancient magical marriage vows,' Daphne agreed.

Ron shot bolt upright in his seat. 'What?' When Harry met his wide-eyed stare with an affirmative nod, he said, 'That really was one of the dumbest things you ever did, mate.'

Harry ran his free hand through his hair until it stood out in all directions. 'I know, Ron; you don't have to tell me that.'

'Maybe one of you is so nice to fill me in? I have no idea what you're talking about,' Hermione interrupted them.

'All magical marriage vows are designed to bind the couple to each other, but they vary in the degree of the binding. The Scottish vows are the most strict: they force the couple to pledge their lives and their magic to each other, under the threat of losing their magic if they ever break their vows,' Daphne explained.

All colour drained off Hermione's face. 'You mean… you mean… What does it mean in detail?'

'It means that Daphne and I can't cheat on each other, and we have to live together "until death doeth us apart", or we'll lose our magic,' Harry replied quietly.

Hermione clasped her hand in front of her mouth. Her eyes bulged, and she let out a small whimper.

'That's horrible,' she said, after she had regained her composure. She narrowed her eyes and shot a menacing glare at Daphne. 'You lured him into that!'

'Daphne did nothing like that,' Harry contradicted her in a firm voice. He put his arm around Daphne's shoulder and drew her towards him. 'You think these vows are bad for me, but you have no idea how bad they are for Daphne. Daphne gave up all her rights when she made them: she virtually became my property.'

Ron didn't look surprised: he had grown up in the magical world and probably knew about these special repercussions of the ancient marriage vows, Harry thought. He had to give his best friend credit: the look he gave Daphne was full of sympathy.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not inclined to spare any sympathetic feelings for his wife, Harry noticed, and felt how his anger about his friend mounted once again. Just the contrary, the expression on her face when she looked at Daphne could be summed up in three gleeful words: "Serves you right." However, she was smart enough not to utter these words aloud. Instead she said, 'Seems I was right all along, Harry. You don't love her, but you're forced to stay with her against your will, so that you don't lose your magic.'

Harry felt how Daphne cringed at Hermione's accusing words, and he tightened his grasp around her shoulder to reassure her.

'You have no idea what you're talking about, Hermione,' he said. 'While I have to admit that Daphne and I both were shocked that morning, it was amazingly easy for us to adjust to the situation. We knew that it was up to us to make this marriage work, or be miserable for the rest of our lives, and so we decided together that we wanted the first option. We already knew that we were attracted to each other, so we had something to start from, though I agree that it was a rather shaky foundation back then.'

He looked down at Daphne and smiled.

'Of course, it helped a lot that Daphne has been raised by her parents in the expectation to have to enter a marriage contract with a complete stranger one day,' he continued his tale.

Hermione pursed her lips at that and let out a derisive snort.

'I agree with you that arranged marriages are barbaric, Hermione.' Harry had no problems to read her thoughts. 'But in our case Daphne's upbringing was heaven sent. I'm sure we wouldn't have sailed through the first weeks of our marriage that easily, hadn't it been for her consideration and matter-of-fact attitude. But that's not all. I'm also sure I wouldn't have been able to understand where she came from and show her the same consideration, hadn't Andy explained to me how Daphne has been brought up, and that she would go out of her way to make things easy for me.'

Hermione huffed, but Ron said, 'As a Black, Andromeda knows what she's talking about. After all, she ran away with Ted Tonks to escape an arranged marriage with one of her first cousins.'

'Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'She advised me to be as considerate of Daphne's feelings and needs as she would be of mine, and then gave me a crash course on Pureblood customs for newly weds.'

Ron laughed out loud at that, but Hermione once again pursed her lips as if she had smelled something unpleasant. 'I can't understand why you saw it fit to bow to the customs of a caste we fought to overcome, Harry.'

Harry startled, not trusting his ears. 'As far as I remember, we fought against Voldemort, Hermione.'

'He was only the manifestation of the despicable supremacist attitude of a caste that has ruled our society for too long,' Hermione contradicted. Her eyes blazed, and for the first time since they had met after her return from Australia, some colour rose in her pale cheeks. 'I'm ashamed to see that you allow your wife to make you one of them!'

Harry held up his hand to forestall what he knew would rapidly become a passionate rant. 'Hold your Hippogriffs, Hermione! I have no inclination to become a Pureblood bigot; you should know that. I thought you're smart enough to know that the defeat of Voldemort didn't change much in our society; he was nothing more than an obstacle that had to be put out of the way to set the overdue changes into motion. Why do you think I agreed to take on the Black seat on the Wizengamot while I'm in my N.E.W.T. year? Certainly not because I have so much free time on my hands. I did it because Kingsley practically begged me to. He needs every vote in his corner he can get. But it's the same as with the house elves: you can't change a society over night.'

Hermione huffed, her eyes still glaring daggers at him and Daphne.

'Like it or not, Daphne comes from the Pureblood background you despise. Though her family doesn't care about blood status, they play to the game, because of their business connections in these circles,' Harry went on.

'Unfortunately,' Daphne nodded.

'We had to appease her family, and we knew that our hasty marriage would be the reason for a lot of gossip and speculations. We didn't want to let that get out of hand, so we decided that following the customs would give the gossip mongers less to talk about.'

He glanced at Hermione. She still looked angry, but made no move to interrupt him.

'So, we went on the customary honeymoon. The three weeks we spent away from the tight scrutiny of the magical world and in close proximity helped us to get to know each other. We became friends during that time, and we've grown closer ever since then.'

Again, he smiled down at his wife. Daphne snuggled up to him and blew him a kiss. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Hermione's face morph into an expression he couldn't decipher, but it was gone so fast that he thought his eyes might have deceived him.

'Daphne has quickly become my rock, and the centre of my life. She's my advisor, my ally, and my lover, and I can't imagine living without her anymore,' he concluded his tale, still looking at his wife. Daphne returned his gaze with a light in her eyes that made his heart beat faster.

'And that's the way it should be,' Ron said quietly. 'I'm happy for both of you.'

'Thank you, Ron,' Daphne replied, while Harry nodded at his best friend, waiting for Hermione's reaction.

She didn't speak at once. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, looking at none of them, and obviously contemplating his tale. If her body language was anything to go by, she had given up her hostility, Harry thought. Though, her face was unmoved, betraying nothing of her thoughts. Finally she let out a sigh, and turned her head until her gaze met Harry's.

'Thank you for being that open with me, Harry. I now understand where you're coming from. I had no idea that any attempt to break your relationship with your wife will harm you, and I don't want that to happen. I also don't want to lose your friendship, so I'll try to get along with your wife for your sake.'

Harry noticed that yet another time she didn't apologise for her behaviour. But at least she had offered a truce: that was more than he had hoped for when he frog-marched her out of the prefect's meeting.

'Thank you, Hermione; that means a lot to me,'

Hermione gave him a short nod, and a smile that not quite reached her eyes. 'Is that all you wanted to talk about? I still have a lot of work to do.'

Harry exchanged a look with Ron, who straightened up in his seat, a determined look on his face.

'Actually, Hermione, there is more Harry and I have to talk about with you.'

'And that is?' she replied in a way that reminded Harry strongly of an angered Crookshanks: he could have sworn that her bushy hair began to stand up.

'Your health,' he replied with more confidence than he felt that moment. 'Don't give me that look, Hermione. I know what you've been through at Malfoy Manor, and I also know that you didn't get proper treatment of the nerve damage you suffered after that. Not to mention the trauma that you suffered at that manor, during the Battle, and most recently in Australia, when your parents turned their backs on you.'

She opened her mouth, no doubt for a hot reply, but he beat her to that.

'I've seen in class today what it did to you. How many nights haven't you slept at all, Hermione? How many times have you missed a meal, because you don't want to admit to yourself that you're at the end of your rope, and yet tried to force yourself to perform the way you're used to? How many hours have you spent finding a way how to make ends meet, and failed?' Now it was his turn to glare at her. 'We are friends, Hermione, so why didn't you come to me for help?'

'You're about to start a family, Harry. I don't want to be a burden,' she defended herself. 'Besides that, I'm fine.'

'That's a load of dragon dung, Hermione, and you know it,' Harry exploded. 'I'm the king of "I'm fine", so I know you're anything but that. You're going to Madam Pomfrey as soon as we're finished here, and will ask her for help. You'll have to do something about the lingering nerve damage, and you'll have to learn how to cope with the trauma that you've been through. I have no idea if there's the equivalent to a psychotherapist in the magical world, but if there is, you're going to see one. Don't worry about the money: I'll cover your expenses.'

She still had a mulish line around her mouth, and didn't answer.

'Damn it, Hermione, if you don't do what Harry told you, I swear I'm going to stun you and carry you to the infirmary,' Ron threatened, his earlobes turning an alarming shade of red.

Harry couldn't help himself: the image of Ron, Hermione slung over his shoulder, caveman style, and swinging a club in his other hand while making guttural noises of triumph, assaulted his mind, and he burst out laughing.

At first, Hermione and Ron both looked offended, but then they started to chuckle, and soon all three friends were roaring with laughter. Daphne watched them, a smile on her face, but not joining their hilarity.

'Alright, I'll do it,' Hermione finally wheezed. 'If only because I don't want you two morons to cause a spectacle.' The corners of her mouth twitched, and for the first time since after her return from Australia Harry could see the ghost of his faithful and humorous best friend.

She started to stand up, but Harry held her back with a motion of his hand. 'I'm glad that you've got sense enough to listen to us, Hermione. But I'm not yet finished. I already suspected it during our shopping trip on Diagon Alley, and Ron confirmed my worries. I'm going to set up a stipend for you as soon as I'm able to see my lawyer. I won't have it that you worry yourself sick about how to get the money to pay for your expenses until you're ready to earn your own money.'

'But, Harry -', she started, gaping at him.

'My decision is final, Hermione,' he told her.

Ron got up and took Hermione by the hand to haul her up. 'You'd better do as he tells you, Hermione. You know how stubborn he is when he's got that certain look in his eyes.'

That made Hermione laugh again, and she allowed Ron to pull her up. She stepped around the table toward Harry and Daphne, who also had risen from their seats, and gave Harry one of her trademark rib-cracking hugs.

'Thank you, Harry,' she whispered in his ear. It sounded rather watery.

'You're welcome,' he whispered back, returning her hug.

Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder. There were no words needed; Harry knew how thankful his best friend was about his rather forceful intervention, and how glad about the outcome. Ron then surprised Harry by giving Daphne a small hug in goodbye, and whispering something to her, to which she replied with a determined nod.

Hermione went not as far as to hug Daphne, but she bade her a perfectly polite goodnight.

'That went better than I expected,' Harry breathed after the door had closed behind his friends. He waited until Daphne had restored the sofas and table to their original state with a flick of her wand, and then put his arm around her shoulder to lead her out of the room.

'I don't know about you,' he yawned as he closed the door of the classroom behind them, 'I'm completely knackered. This has been one horrible day.'

'That's putting it mildly,' Daphne agreed, sliding her arm around his waist. 'At least it ended on a good note. I feared the worst when you frog-marched Granger out of the meeting.'

Harry gave her a sheepish smile. 'Me, too,' he admitted. 'I have no idea how this would've ended, hadn't you and Ron come into the room and interfered.'

They slowly ambled to their apartment while they talked. Harry realised that it must be later than he had thought: there were no more students in the hallways; the only ones they met were the sixth year Ravenclaw prefects on patrol. They stared at the young couple curiously, but quickly passed by as Daphne bade them a polite goodnight. A look at his watch told Harry that it was indeed past curfew for the fourth years to sixth years.

'Why didn't you do it?,' Daphne picked up their conversation as soon as the prefects were out of hearing distance.

Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. 'Do what?"

'Last night, after our talk with Ron, you asked for my consent to make Granger a member of the Black family, and I agreed with that. But you not once mentioned that option to her. Instead, you offered her a mere stipend. Why?'

He almost stopped in his tracks. 'You have no idea?' he asked with wide eyes.

'I wouldn't ask if I had,' his wife replied.

They had reached the door to their apartment. Harry didn't answer immediately, but opened the door with his wand and held it open for her. Daphne walked into the living room and waited for him beside the fireplace to lock the door and follow her.

'Well?' she asked.

He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. 'Daphne, do you really think I would've made Hermione a part of one of my houses after the way she behaved to you today? She treated you horribly, and didn't once apologise for that.'

'So you've noticed that, too?' Daphne asked. Once again she had that strange light in her eyes that made his heart beat a drum roll.

'It was kind of hard to miss,' he snorted without any trace of humour. 'If she thinks she can walk all over you without any consequences, she's sorely mistaken. I couldn't make her a member of one of my houses; it would've been disrespectful to you.'

Daphne's gaze hadn't left his face while he talked, and the light in her eyes had become brighter. 'Thank you, love,' she said softly. She bit her lip. 'Tell me, Harry, when she said you were staying with me against your will, because our marriage vows forced you to do just that or lose your magic, you told her that I'm the centre of your life and that you can't imagine living without me. Did you really mean that?'

'Every word,' he said, while he cupped her face with one hand and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

A blinding smile lit up her features. 'Good. I feel the same about you.'

They looked at each other, both knowing that they just had made the next momentous step in their relationship. Harry's heart beat so hard and fast that he thought it was going to jump out of his mouth. His heart knew he finally found what he had been looking for all his life. And yet his mind didn't dare to believe what her words implied. After all, what did he know about love? He had once thought he loved Ginny, but in the end their mutual feelings had turned out to have as much substance as a Weasley's Patented Daydream.

Daphne looked at him, her brows slightly knitted, and obviously sensing his inner debate.

Finally, Harry's heart won. He pulled her towards him, and gently lowered his lips on hers. He might not yet be ready to say the magic words, but his kiss said it all. And somehow, by the way she kissed him back, he knew that Daphne understood perfectly.

 **MY**

As each morning after his marriage, Harry woke up with the scent of citrus and lavender in his nose. But something was different today: usually the masses of Daphne's blonde hair were tickling him more to the left side of his face, where she was snuggling against his side. This morning, her head was tucked right under his chin. She was lying on his chest, one arm and one leg spread across his body, and he had his arms wrapped around her.

In these carefree heartbeats between awakening and becoming fully conscious, he smiled and tightened his arms around her, relishing the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. They must have fallen asleep in each other's arms last night, after they had made love with a tenderness that had melted his heart, and hardly moved in their sleep.

Daphne moaned, and slowly raised her head. Her wonderful eyes looked at him, unfocused at first, but then with a warmth that made his breath hitch in his throat.

'G'morning, love,' she mumbled, and then snuggled against him in a way that reminded him of a contented cat. 'How late is it?'

'I've no idea,' he replied, but fumbled for his wand on the bedside table. A quick Tempus Spell told him that it was not yet six in the morning: they still had more than two hours until they had to be in the Great Hall for breakfast.

'Good,' Daphne said with a wicked grin, and took the wand out of his hand. She performed a quick spell on both of them he didn't recognise, but must have been a Breath-Refreshing-Spell, he thought as she kissed him in a way that made his toes curl.

That was his last coherent thought for a long time. As a result, he and Daphne had to hurry to get some breakfast before classes. They ran through the hallways and down the Moving Staircase hand in hand, and skidded to a halt in front of the already closed tall double doors of the Great Hall five minutes late, out of breath, and laughing.

Daphne gave him a quick kiss, then moved to push the heavy doors open, while she threw him an impish smile over her shoulder that made him want to drag her back to their rooms at once, classes be damned.

All eyes turned toward them, and there was a lull in the conversation when they entered the room. Daphne grabbed him by the hand, giving him a conspiratorial smile, and dragged him to the Hufflepuff table, where their friends sat. When they took their seats, the conversations started again. By the not so subtle glances that were cast their way, Harry had no illusions about the topic.

'I suppose I don't have to ask what kept you so long,' Terry grinned into their glowing faces, not heeding the elbow Lisa poked into his side.

Harry felt the blush creep into his cheek, but as always, Daphne kept her cool.

'Then don't,' she said, while she poured them some tea. Under the table, she hooked her foot around Harry's ankle, making him blush even harder.

Neville sniggered, but thankfully that were all the comments they got for their tardiness: it was Friday, at last, and their friends were already discussing their plans for the weekend.

Harry looked down the table. To his amazement, he saw Ron sitting next to Dean, having an animated discussion with Ernie about Quidditch. What else, Harry thought, and chuckled to himself. Hermione, however, was nowhere to be seen.

When he felt his gaze upon himself, his best mate looked up and nodded at him in greeting.

Harry couldn't help the amused grin that appeared on his face.

With the ease of long friendship, Ron had no problems to read his thoughts. 'I finally asked Neville to show me the Alarm-Clock-Spell,' he told Harry past the backs of Neville and Dean. 'I was tired of getting into trouble for being late.'

That had everyone chuckle.

'Good for you, mate,' Harry replied. 'Though it isn't nice of you not to remind Hermione of the time.'

Ron shook his head. 'Didn't need to,' he said. 'Madam Pomfrey kept her in the infirmary. Said she'll have to stay there at least this weekend.'

Ernie's spoon clattered into his bowl, and blobs of porridge splashed onto the table. 'So it's true, Harry, you hexed her until she looked like the Giant Squid?'

Harry choked at the spoonful of eggs he had just put into his mouth. He coughed, swallowed, and then took a sip of tea to clear his throat, while his friends looked at him expectantly.

'What gave you that idea?' he asked, when he had command over his voice again.

'That's one of the rumours going around about your little altercation during last night's meeting,' Neville said serenely. 'The other ones involve her long, painful death.'

Harry shook his head. The imagination of the Hogwarts rumour mill never ceased to amaze him. 'I admit, I was a trifle vexed at her last night -'

Ron and Ernie coughed, and he gave them an annoyed side glance.

'However, Hermione and I managed to settle our differences in a civilised way.'

'Why she's in the infirmary, then?' Morag asked.

He lowered his fork back to his plate. 'Because Ron and I made her go. You don't know her as good as we do, so you won't know that the way how she acted lately is completely out of character for her.' He looked at Susan Bones when he said that, and to his satisfaction she blushed and lowered her eyes. 'We had a talk and got to the bottom of her problems. As a result, she consented to go to Madam Pomfrey.'

He turned back to his breakfast, and to his relief his friends didn't pry any more.

 **MY**

The morning went by in a blur, with Charms first, and then DADA. As Harry had expected, Hestia Jones turned out to be a very competent professor, who focussed on the practical application of Defense Spells, much to the delight of her class. After the experience of last year, almost all students - with the exception of Morag - were on a rather advanced level, and Professor Jones promised them to go beyond the N.E.W.T.s curriculum later in the year.

Harry and Daphne both were free for the weekend after DADA. They walked back to their apartment to put their bookbags away before they went to lunch. However, the conversation between Morag and Ernie he had overheard on their way back to their apartments had given Harry an idea: they planned to leave the castle immediately and to spend a weekend at their new home.

As soon as they had closed the door to their rooms behind themselves, he asked his wife, 'What do you think about a weekend at _The Hideaway_?'

A broad smile lit up Daphne's face. 'That sounds too good to be true!' she exclaimed. 'But don't we need McGonagall's permission for that?'

Harry shook his head. 'No, we only have to inform her. As long as we don't have headboy or headgirl duties, we can leave the castle after our last classes on Friday, and don't have to be back before the first classes on Monday.'

'Alright; what are we waiting for?' Daphne asked, and hugged him.

Harry sent his Patronus to Professor McGonagall to inform her of their absence, and then helped Daphne to pack the things they would need for a weekend back home. They still hadn't hooked up their fireplace to the Floo network, so Harry called Sunny and asked him to take them to _The Hideaway_.

It was a beautiful late summer day, and Daphne and Harry both inhaled the salty air in deep breaths as they arrived in front of their home. They had a quick lunch, and then went out for a long walk along the coastal path. On their walk, they talked about inconsequential things, but also enjoyed stretches of intimate silence, while they felt the stress of their first week back at school draining off them. Harry couldn't get enough of the carefree smile on Daphne's face; an expression she hardly ever had shown all week long.

Back at the house, they decided to buckle down and get their homework done, so that they would have the rest of their weekend to themselves. They had dinner with Sunny and Breezy, and then cuddled on the big sofa in front of the fireplace of their living room, talking and reading.

The next morning, however, was a reminder that there were still a lot of unsolved problems in their lives. Harry was going to meet first with Percy, and later with Gawain Robards that morning.

'You don't have to come with me if you don't want to,' he told Daphne at breakfast. She had listened to his plans with a slight frown on her face.

Her eyes lit up at that. 'Really? I wouldn't mind, if you need my input, but I'd also love to have some time of my own.'

He brushed a stray lock behind her ear. 'I think I can handle Percy and Robards on my own by now, thanks to your tutoring. You have fun. What about meeting me for lunch in Muggle London? We can visit with Andy and Teddy after that; I bet they'll be delighted to see us.'

'Sounds good to me,' Daphne smiled.

Harry let out a secret breath of relief. He had something to talk about with Percy that would have upset her, he knew, and so he was glad she decided against coming with him.

They Apparated together to the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron, and then parted ways.

'Harry, good to see you. How's Hogwarts?' Percy greeted him as he entered the office.

'Still huge and draughty,' Harry replied with a grin, and shook Percy's hand.

As always, Percy soon came down to business. 'I've got news for you on all of your and Daphne's impending lawsuits,' he began. 'The first hearings for those who sent you Howlers will begin on October the second. There are about twenty dates, spread out between October and Christmas, and I expect the same number of summons for the time from January to March. You don't have to attend any of them; as I told you before, I can handle them with the power of attorney you and Daphne gave me.'

'That's good,' Harry replied. 'Daphne and I still have school to finish. We'd miss too many of our classes if we had to attend to all these hearings.'

Percy nodded to that. 'I'm afraid there's one hearing you both have to attend to,' he said, and handed Harry a sheet of parchment.

Harry scanned the parchment, and his eyebrows went up. 'That's about the lawsuit against the two _Prophets_ and Skeeter, isn't it? So the hearing is on the sixth of November already? I didn't count on that; you said you expected the hearing not to take place before January.' He handed the parchment back to Percy.

Percy took it with a small chuckle and put it back to where it belonged. 'Yes, I did. Usually, the Wizengamot works at snail's pace, but sometimes they surprise me with their speed of operation.'

They laughed, then Percy asked, 'You wrote you had two more problems you need my help with?'

Harry sobered, and nodded. 'Yeah. Daphne and I got talking the other day; about what would happen to her should I die. I'm not a complete fool, Percy, the events on our wedding ball made it pretty clear that there are still people outside who want to see me dead. I'm not immortal, and one lucky shot is enough to leave Daphne behind. We got married under the ancient Scottish marriage law, and she told me that meant she'd be back under the jurisdiction of her Head of House, should something happen to me.'

'That's true. Under the ancient law widows aren't entitled to inherit, as long as there is no will that states otherwise. Everything will go to your closest male relative, or your eldest son, in case you'll have children. It's up to their decision whether Daphne will still be supported by the Potter family. Usually, the widow is returned to her own family without any provisions. Also, in the case there are minor children, they'd be placed under the custody of your next living adult male relative. Daphne won't have a say in their upbringing.'

Harry's face darkened while he listened to Percy's explanations. 'That's so wrong,' he murmured. 'Listen, Percy, I don't want any of that to happen to Daphne. I know the Potters have a House Charter that might state otherwise. You'd want to look into that.'

Percy nodded and scribbled a note on a sheet of parchment in front of him.

'To circumvent the ancient marriage law, and maybe in addition to the Potter House Charter, I want to state in my will that Daphne is going to get as much freedom as possible. Under no circumstances she should be forced to return to her family or be at the mercy of a male relative of mine. She is going to be my sole heir, should I die childless, and she'll get half of everything if we're blessed with children. Of course I want her to have custody of our children, and nobody else. Also, she's going to be emancipated in the case I'll die: I don't want her to have to answer to anyone.' It was a strange feeling to make provisions for a time he would be dead, Harry thought, but it had to be done. He owed it to Daphne.

Percy took some more notes, then looked up and smiled at Harry. 'That's decent of you, Harry. Not many men who are married under the ancient laws make provisions for their wifes. Most of them are only concerned with the power of the family,'

Harry shrugged at that. 'It's the right thing to do. Daphne was devastated when we discovered that we got married under the ancient Scottish marriage law. I offered her an additional contract, but she said with the provisions made for her in the Potter House Charter she doesn't need that. I have no idea what the House Charter says in case the Head of House dies, and I want her safe and well provided for, that's all.'

His eyes didn't meet Percy's, so he didn't notice the curious glance the young attorney gave him.

'Alright,' Percy said. 'I'll talk to the goblins about a copy of your House Charter, and then I'll write up a will for you. You can sign it next Saturday, if you like.' He made some more notes, and then looked at Harry.

'Anything else I can do for you?'

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'What have I do to set up a stipend? The goblins told me I got a lot of donations after the first time I defeated Voldemort, and even more after the last time. I don't really need that money. I thought I'd better use it as a Hogwarts stipend for Muggleborns.'

'That's very generous of you,' Percy said. 'I'd suggest to set up a foundation. To do that, you'll have to state the purpose of the foundation, write up a charter, appoint a board of directors, and probably also a manager, at least as long as you're at school, and lastly you'll have to transfer the monies to the foundation.'

'Sounds complicated,' Harry said, and made a face.

'Not overly so,' Percy assured him, while he pulled another piece of parchment towards him for more notes. 'You'd better write to the goblins and allow me to talk to them about the monies. I'll write up the charter. You still need to name the foundation, and give me the names of the first board of directors, and of the first manager, if you want to appoint one,'

Harry thought about that for a while. Then he said, 'I'd like to name it the Tracey-Davis-Foundation for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards.'

Percy's eyebrows went up at that. 'Who's that? An old friend of yours? I never heard of her.'

'I don't think I spoke even once to her during our Hogwarts years,' Harry said quietly. 'She was Daphne's best friend: a Muggleborn witch sorted into Slytherin. Daphne helped her to hide her descendance. It didn't help much. Somebody obviously found out: Tracey and her family were killed in a Death Eater ride around Easter.'

'Bastards,' Percy murmured.

Harry couldn't agree more. 'I'd like to have three members of the board of directors. The first one should be Daphne and I, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's a Muggleborn who comes from a very wealthy family, so I suppose he's familiar with this stuff. For the future, the board of directors should always consist of two members of the Potter family, preferably the Head of House and his wife, and one Muggleborn witch or wizard who is familiar with economics.'

'Good choice,' Percy agreed.

'I'd like to appoint you as the first manager, provided Daphne and Justin agree, and you are comfortable with that.'

'I'd be honoured,' Percy said, and by the look in his eyes Harry could tell that he really meant it. 'I'll talk to the goblins and do the necessary paperwork. Everything will be ready for you to sign next Saturday.'

Harry gave him a thankful smile. 'That would be great.'

A short time later he took his leave. As he stepped out of the building and onto Diagon Alley, he looked at his wristwatch. He still had time enough to spare, so he decided to walk rather than to Apparate to the entrance of the Ministry for Magic from the Muggle world. Talking about his will had been a disturbing business, and he was glad for the time to clear his head from his morose thoughts before he had to talk to Gawain Robards.

 **MY**

'Ah, Mr Potter; I appreciate your punctuality,' the wizened Head Auror greeted him as he entered his office. 'What can I do for you?'

Harry took a copy of the report of the Department of Mysteries out of his briefcase, and handed it to Robards.

'You gave me Sprout's blood analysis during our last talk, sir. I thought it was at least worth a try to follow the suggestion of the Unspeakables to find out what kind of potion was used on him, so I founded their research. This is what they came up with,' Harry indicated towards the sheet of parchment in front of Robards.

The Head Auror gave him a dark look. Harry wasn't fazed by that: he had expected that the experienced Auror would be irritated about his interference. But if he was at least half the man Kingsley had described him to be, he wouldn't dismiss Harry simply out of pride.

Kingsley's assessment of his long time co-Auror proved to be right: a look of curiosity passed over Robard's face, and he picked up the report and read it carefully. In contrary to Harry he grasped its importance at once.

'Merlin be damned,' he gasped, his eyes fixed to the parchment. Then he looked at Harry. 'I have to apologise to you, Mr Potter, and probably also to the Head of the Department of Mysteries. I was mistaken, and you were right. I'm thankful for that: this is the first substantial lead we have in this case.'

Harry led out a relieved breath. He had been afraid that the Head Auror would dismiss the report.

'What are you going to do now, sir?' he asked.

'Oh, tedious police work, I'm afraid,' Robards replied. 'Contacting the Aurors in France, Italy and Germany, having them talk to the Potion Master, hoping that the description of their customers will give us the next lead…' He shrugged. 'You get the drift, I suppose.'

That Harry did, and secretly he thought that it sounded very boring: just like the times on the run they had spent brooding over the books Hermione had pilfered from Dumbledore's office, in the hope to come up with another lead to the remaining Horcruxes. It had been frustrating, and completely in vain, he remembered: in the end it had been Voldemort's inability to guard his emotions and thoughts that had led them to the Horcrux at Hogwarts.

'May I come back and ask if the lead was successful?' he asked while he got up to take his leave.

'Anytime, Mr Potter,' the Head Auror said. It sounded much more jovial than his previous promises to keep Harry informed about the ongoing investigation. 'I have to say, I was sceptical when Kingsley told me you wanted to join the Aurors next year. But now I'm looking forward to having you joining the academy next September. You seem to have a natural affinity to the job.'

'Thank you, sir,' Harry said politely, and then made his goodbyes. While he walked to the elevators, he thought about how much his attitude had changed over the last couple of months. Right after the Battle he would have been over the moon about Robart's praise, and couldn't have waited for next year to come. But ever since he had found out about all of his other obligations, he wasn't so sure about his first career choice anymore. It would be impossible to fulfill his obligations to the Potter holdings and have a seat on the wizengamot on top of a full time Auror job with erratic hours, he knew. Besides that, Daphne would probably be freaked out every time she knew him to be on an assignment. He felt bad about doing that to her: the few short months he had lived with her had already shown him that she had problems dealing with stress.

He sighed as he stepped out of the telephone booth and walked to the next corner, to hail a taxi that would bring him to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet his wife for lunch. At least he still had some time before he needed to make a decision.

Daphne already waited for him when he entered the restaurant. One of the four chairs at their table was piled high with shopping bags.

'My, you've been busy, I see,' he quipped as he kissed her in greeting.

She pouted. 'A girl needs something to wear.'

'That's debatable,' he grinned, sitting down next to her, and promptly got a light slap for his cheek.

'Prat!'

'I'll tell Morag that you're still abusing your husband,' he threatened, while he signalled the waiter.

She chuckled at that, but waited until the waiter had handed them the menu and had taken their orders for their drinks, before she picked up their conversation.

'How was your morning?' she asked, perusing the menu.

'Most successful,' he assured her. 'Robards almost kissed me when I gave him the report.'

That had her laugh. The waiter returned with their cokes, and they ordered the food.

Daphne's eyes sobered as she took a sip of her coke. 'You don't have to spare me, Harry. What did Percy have to say?'

Harry knew that it was of no use to keep it from her: she had to know.

'The first summons for the court hearings came in. Starting at the beginning of October, Percy will hardly ever leave the courtroom, I'm afraid. The summons for the hearings in our case against the _Prophets_ and Skeeter have also arrived. Percy was rather surprised by that.'

Her eyes widened for a moment, but other than that she showed no sign of emotion.

'When?' she asked, and took another sip of her coke.

She couldn't fool him for one second: he knew how much the mean articles in the _Prophets_ had got to her.

'On the sixth of November. Percy said we have to be there.'

She was rather quiet after that, and sipped her coke with a pensive expression on her face until their meals were served.

'Have you talked to Percy about the stipend you want to set up for Granger?' she asked, picking up a slice of pizza.

'Yeah. Percy suggested to set up a foundation. It sounds rather complicated, so I'm glad Percy has to deal with the details and not me,' Harry replied around a bite of pizza.

Daphne laughed at that, but listened attentively when he repeated Percy's information about the necessary steps to set up a foundation. She was touched when he told her that he put her on the board of directors, and approved of his choice of Justin Finch-Fletchley as a third director.

'How are you going to name it?' she asked, picking up another slice of pizza.

'The Tracey-Davis-Foundation for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards,' he said quietly.

Daphne's eyes became huge, and the slice of pizza slid from her fingers and fell back on her plate. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face at his chest.

Harry felt something wet and hot trickle down his throat. Cursing himself, he put his arms around his wife in silent comfort, not heeding the curious stares they got from the patrons at the adjoining tables. He knew what Tracey and her family meant to her, so he should have expected something like that. He was an idiot to spring his choice at her like that.

Finally, Daphne raised her head and smiled at him with red-rimmed eyes.

'Thank you, love. You don't know what that means to me,' she said, and kissed him. 'What made you chose Tracey's name?' She pulled her arms away and set back in her chair, looking at him with shining eyes.

'It was a spur of a moment thing,' he admitted. 'The foundation is supposed to be for Muggleborns, so I wanted to name it after a Muggleborn witch or wizard.'

'I would've thought your mother's name is the obvious choice,' she said.

Harry took her hand that laid beside her plate, and began to play with her fingers. 'True,' he shrugged, 'but when I looked into the Family Ledger the other day, I saw there is already a foundation with my mother's name: the Lily-Potter-Foundation for Gifted Witches and Wizards. Going by the date, my father set it up shortly after their wedding. When Percy asked me about the name, I suddenly had to think of Tracey. How much she meant to you, and that she and her family were obviously killed because of her blood status. But only few people will acknowledge that, because she was in the wrong house. By choosing her name, I wanted to show that there were victims in every circle of our society, and make sure Tracey will never be forgotten.'

Again, Daphne's tears spilled over, but this time they were obviously happy tears, as her broad smile told him.

 **MY**

They spent the afternoon with Andy and Teddy. As Harry had predicted, both were delighted to see them. Teddy kept changing his hair colour between blonde and raven, and his eyes alternated between blue and green all afternoon long, covering every possible combination. As always, he was glued to Daphne, but Harry didn't mind. They didn't leave before Teddy was ready for the night, and together they put him in his crib.

That afternoon had given Harry a foretaste of what was to come: the thought of having children with Daphne that had him almost made jump out of his skin a few weeks ago didn't seem that outlandish anymore. Just the contrary; he found himself looking forward to it. But not yet, he thought, as Daphne took his arm to let him apparate her home; there were too many things going on in their lives to have the time to care for a baby on top of that.

 **MY**

When they woke up the next morning, the weather had turned. The wind rattled the window panes, and strong gusts of rain, pelting against the window, told them that it was probably better to stay under the warm covers. The sea, that usually lulled them into sleep with the soft rush of waves, was roaring.

Daphne sat upright in bed and looked out of the window.

'I told you that it was going to become pretty rough here in autumn,' she grimaced as she laid back beside Harry and snuggled up to him. 'The waves are so high that the spray is coming over the cliffs.'

Harry hummed to that and put his arm around her. 'Any ideas what to do, since we can't take our planned walk?' he grinned.

'I think we'll come up with an idea or two,' Daphne replied, and kissed him.

 **MY**

Because of the storm that became worse by the minute they decided to return to Hogwarts after a rather late breakfast. This time, Harry Apparated them to the front gate, and then sent his Patronus to Hagrid, to tell him to open the gates for them.

That had not been one of their smartest ideas: the storm that had raged in Cornwall in the morning meanwhile also had reached Scotland, and a heavy rain pelted down on them and soaked them in spite of the Impervious Charm Harry quickly cast over them. Even though Hagrid answered to Harry's Patronus almost immediately, they looked like a pair of drowned rats when he opened the gates.

'Ye'd better come to my hut,' he shouted over the storm.

Daphne and Harry nodded, and ran to the hut behind the half-giant. As soon as the door had closed behind them, they were greeted by Fang. The boarhound had become noticeably older since Harry had first met him, as the grey hairs around his muzzle indicated, but time hadn't mellowed the exuberance with which he greeted visitors. Daphne shrieked and retreated behind Harry's back.

'That's only Fang, Miss Greengrass. 'e ain't doin' nuthing. A big ol' softie 'e is, Fang,' Hagrid told Daphne. His voice lacked the joviality he had always shown to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Daphne eyed the huge animal with a distrustful eye. It was just trying to slobber Harry's face, who prevented it's affections with an ease that told of long years of practise, and clearly showed that it was harmless - as long as you didn't mind to be knocked down and crushed to death by its weight.

'I'm sure it's a very friendly dog, Professor Hagrid,' Daphne replied diplomatically, but remained in her safe place behind Harry.

Finally, Fang had enough and threw himself on his blanket beside the fireplace with a contended huff.

'Sit down and have a spot of tea,' Hagrid invited them.

Harry and Daphne cast Drying Charms upon each other, while Hagrid prepared the tea. Daphne followed Harry to the table and sat down next to him on one of the huge, shabby chairs, but was mindful to keep Harry between herself and the snoring Boarhound next to the fireplace.

Harry bent over to her while Hagrid had turned his back to them. 'Coward,' he whispered.

Daphne glared at him. 'Sorry, but I'm more a cat's person than a dog's person, I guess. Do I have to remind you that Crookshanks scares the shit out of you?'

Harry laughed, but he turned red at her words. 'Busted,' he admitted.

Their banter was interrupted by Hagrid, who put mugs with steaming tea and a plate with rock cakes on the table, and then sat down opposite of them. Harry barely suppressed a snort when he saw Daphne stare at the brew in her mug that was almost as black as ink. However, he shook his head in warning when she reached out for the plate of rock cakes. Her expression became puzzled, but she drew her hand away.

'So, ye're married,' Hagrid stated after his first gulp of tea. His gaze was cool.

Harry sighed inwardly. He took Daphne's hand, and smiled at his first friend in the magical world. 'Yeah. We were really sorry you couldn't make it to our wedding reception.'

'Me, too,' Hagrid shrugged, though he didn't look like it. 'Gwarpy an' me 'ave been travellin'. Found a nice lass for Gwarpy, we did.'

Harry had problems to breathe. 'You did?' he said faintly. 'Where are they going to live?'

'Up in the mountains, o' course,' Hagrid replied.

'Of course,' Harry echoed. He noticed Daphne's confused gaze on him, and used the second Hagrid was distracted by throwing a rock cake towards a greedy Fang to mouth at her, 'I'll tell you later.'

Hagrid turned back to them. 'Been really serprised when I got the invitation to that ball of yers. Thought yer were with Ginny, 'arry.'

'Ginny and I didn't work out,' Harry told him. 'I broke up with her, and met Daphne shortly after. We clicked right from the beginning. Well, you know the rest.'

Hagrid grumbled to that. 'Little bit fast, if yer ask me. That Skeeter woman wrote she gave yer Love Potions.'

This time, Harry sighed aloud. 'You shouldn't believe everything Skeeter writes, Hagrid.'

'True,' the half-giant admitted, and took a long gulp of his tea. He put the mug down and asked, 'Are Ron an' 'ermione alrigh' with yer marriage?'

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look. Then Harry said, 'Ron had troubles at first, but I think meanwhile he has accepted Daphne.'

'He has,' Daphne for the first time joined the conversation. 'He told me so when we said goodnight after the prefect's meeting the other day.'

Harry raised his eyebrows, but left it at that. 'I admit Hermione had a harder time to accept our marriage. After all, she and Ginny are best friends. But we had a long talk the other day that cleared the air, I think. She and Daphne will probably never be the closest of friends, but they won't be fighting constantly, either.' At least he hoped that, Harry thought.

By the look on Daphne's face he could see that she still had her reservations about Hermione, but she nodded to his words. He couldn't blame her on that: Hermione had behaved horrible to her. If she stuck to her words and tried to get along with Daphne from now on, remained to be seen.

Hagrid gave Daphne a long, appraising look over the rim of his mug. 'Well, then everythin' is alrigh', I guess. Congratulations.' It sounded less than enthusiastic, and the conversation remained stiff and constrained. Harry felt sorry that his first friend in the magical world didn't seem to like his wife, but wasn't overly surprised, either: Hagrid had never made a secret of his distrust against Slytherins.

Harry and Daphne took a lull in the storm to make their goodbyes and to return to their rooms, where they were greeted by Miss Elizabeth Bennet. They had decided to leave the small Kneazle at the castle for the weekend, since it was still becoming adjusted to its new surroundings, and had sent Breezy to feed it. Crookshanks again had managed to find his way into their apartment, in spite of the closed door. They didn't have to worry about Daphne's darling feeling lonesome: the orange furball made a great babysitter, though Daphne still didn't trust his long term intentions towards her familiar.

'I guess Hagrid will never consider me good enough for you,' Daphne said as they settled down in front of the roaring fire in their small living room. She had taken a hot shower, and dressed in a thick sweater, woolen socks, and comfortable leggings. Her hair, still damp from the shower, fanned out over the headrest, and she stroked a contentedly purring Miss Elizabeth Bennet who had curled up in her lap.

'He'll come around,' Harry said as he sat down beside her and put a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of her. 'Hagrid hasn't it in him to bear a grudge for a long time.'

'I hope you're right,' Daphne sighed, and picked up her mug of cocoa. She blew at the scalding hot beverage to cool it down. 'I'd hate to come between you and one of your oldest friends. But tell me: who is Gwarpy?'

Harry sniggered as he put his arm around her shoulder. 'Gwarp is Hagrid's little brother, though that's deceiving: he's at least twice as tall as Hagrid.'

Daphne let out a faint gasp at that.

'Hargrid brought him with him from a journey to Romania, back in fifth year. Dumbledore sent him and Madam Maxime there, as negotiators with the Giants. Unfortunately, Voldemort beat them to that, but Hagrid at least managed to pry Gwarp out of their claws. He's been invaluable at the Battle of Hogwarts.'

'I remember there was a giant who joined the fight on our side,' Daphne nodded.

'Well, Hagrid's been talking about finding him a lady-friend ever since he brought him here. Seems he made good of his promise this summer.'

Daphne gasped. 'You mean he settled a couple of Giants, capable to reproduce, up in the mountains next to a castle full of children behind the back of the Ministry?'

'Seems so,' Harry chuckled. 'But that's nothing on the time he tried to raise a dragon in his hut.'

'WHAT?' The mug of cocoa almost slipped out of Daphne's hand, hadn't Harry steadied it with the lightening-speed of a seeker.

He put the mug back on the table, and then told Daphne everything about Norberta, the Norwegian Ridgeback, and their efforts to shield Hagrid from the fallout of his naïvite. From there it was only a small step to Quirrell, and his first encounter with Voldemort.

Daphne listened to him in fascinated terror, clutching his hand until it hurt.

'I had no idea you already had to fight him in your first year,' she said softly as he had ended his story.

Harry grimaced. 'He kept coming after me almost each year, with the exceptions of third year and sixth year, I think.'

She startled at that, but didn't ask any questions.

Harry let out a shuddering breath. It had been cathartic to tell her about the events of his first year, but it also had been draining. As always, she gave him the space to tell her his story on his own terms. He leaned his head against hers, thankful for her understanding.

Both lost in their own thoughts, they watched the fire burning down.

 **MY**

School settled into routine as their second week of classes began.

On Monday, Hermione returned back to classes. Since Daphne had Arithmancy first on Mondays, while Harry had a free period, they had decided to have breakfast in their apartment. When Daphne left for her first class, Harry started working on his correspondence with the goblins and his managers he had once again neglected over the last couple of days.

That's why he didn't meet with Hermione before Transfiguration. As a result of the test, Professor Metcalfe let them repeat material they had already covered in fifth year, and had paired strong students with those whose performance during the test hadn't been up to par. Harry got partnered with Hermione, while Daphne worked with Ron.

Hermione looked much better today: some colour had returned into her cheeks, and the smudges around her eyes weren't that pronounced anymore. Her spellwork also had become much better, though she wasn't yet back to her usual brilliant performance.

Harry was not surprised: he knew of the wonders a couple of restful nights could do.

'Where have you been at breakfast?' Hermione asked him under the cover of the noise of the practising students. 'Come to speak of it, I haven't seen you once all weekend long. Of course, I understand that you weren't keen on seeing me after how I behaved to Gr… to your wife.'

'Don't be daft, Hermione,' Harry said. He concentrated, and then turned the pincushion in front of him into a hedgehog with a practised flick of his wand. 'I had a free period this morning, and decided to use it to look after my family holdings. It wasn't convenient to walk all the way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, only to return a short time later. That's why Daphne and I decided to have breakfast in our rooms,' he replied, checking the Transfigured animal in front of him for any flaws. 'I'm sorry that I didn't come to see you in the infirmary, but Daphne and I left the castle right after classes on Friday.'

Hermione gasped. 'You left the castle? Harry!'

'No need to get your knickers in a twist,' he grinned. 'I never would've thought that you of all people didn't read the new rules of conduct and memorised them. Adult students are allowed to leave the castle to take care of their affairs, you know. Daphne and I had some business to take care of, so we decided to spend the weekend at home.'

Of course, that wasn't the entire truth. With a pang of remorse Harry realised that he hadn't spared a thought on Hermione all weekend long, beside setting up the foundation that was necessary to grant her a stipend. Instead, he and Daphne had been overwhelmed with the discovery of the new dimension of their relationship, and had focussed on little else than each other during the weekend.

Hermione gave him an appraising glance. 'You've changed a lot since Ron and I left for Australia, you know. What's that with these family holdings you keep talking about? What kind of business can an eighteen year old couple possibly have?'

'There are some things I haven't told you yet,' he conceded, cancelling the charm on his hedgehog that immediately turned back into a pincushion. 'We really need to sit down one of these days and catch up.' He pointed at the table. 'Your turn, Hermione.'

She gave him another appraising glance, but didn't say anything else on that matter.

She frowned in concentration and raised her wand. Though Harry recognised the perfectly executed movements of the Transfiguration spell for Transfiguring an inanimate object into an animal, nothing happened. Hermione let out a devastated sigh.

'Don't push it, Hermione. Just relax and let your magic flow,' he said. 'Come on, just close your eyes and take a deep breath.'

She gave him a doubtful look, but did as he told her.

Harry talked her through one of the breathing exercises Daphne had taught him over the summer to calm down his anxiety. When he was sure Hermione was sufficiently relaxed, he said, 'Keep your eyes closed and try again.'

Still in trance, Hermione raised her wand. Again, her movements were perfect. The next second, a cute little hedgehog with beady eyes and a wet, quivering nose sat on the table in front of them.

'Open your eyes, Hermione.'

Rather reluctantly, she obeyed. However, her eyes almost bulged out of her head when she saw the animal in front of her: it was perfect; not one spike was out of place or off colour.

'I did it!' she screamed, jumping up and down in a way that reminded Harry of Dobby at his most excited. Then she leapt at Harry and hugged him until he thought he was going to suffocate. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' she shouted in his ear.

'You're welcome,' he managed to choke when she finally let go of him. 'Merlin, Hermione, you really need to get rid of that habit to strangle people each time you're excited about something.'

She blushed, but laughed. Harry patted her on her back, and then continued practising, not noticing the thoughtful glance his wife gave him across the classroom.

 **MY**

'That was a nice thing you did for Granger,' Daphne said quietly as they walked to the seventh year common room with their group of friends.

'You don't mind that she hugged me?' he asked, remembering her reaction to Hermione's hug on the train ride.

Daphne shook her head. 'No; she needed a sense of achievement, and you helped her with that. Now she knows that she's still able to perform excellent magic, and that'll help her overcome her self-doubts and therefore also the self-imposed block on her magic. As a side effect, she'll become much easier to get along with, so I wholeheartedly approve of what you did.'

Harry broke out into laughter. 'Spoken like a true egotistical snake.'

'Of course,' she agreed, flashing him a smile.

They had reached the common room while they talked, and together with their friends they settled down at one of the tables in the study room to tackle the load of homework they had got that morning. Hermione joined them, and even Ron started to work on his Transfiguration essay immediately, instead of trying to badger someone into a game of chess, although this was only a free period before Defense and not yet study time. His best mate really was growing up, Harry thought.

The load of homework even increased as the week went on, and it soon became a habit for them to study as a group in the Seventh Year common room in their free periods and during study time. He needed every moment, Harry admitted to himself. However, he inevitably fell behind with his work when he had to attend to the first faction meeting on Wednesday.

Gordon had told him to meet him at _Gaellun,_ the ancestral seat of the McDougal clan that was not far away from Hogwarts, right after his last classes on Wednesday. He had lunch with Gordon and his wife Mary. At lunch, Gordon explained to him what was going to happen during the faction meeting that afternoon.

Right after lunch, Gordon apparated him to the front of a terraced house in Mayfair. The Ogden's townhouse, Harry discovered: per tradition, the faction meetings of the Light Traditionalists took place in the drawing room of the current head of the faction.

What followed were the most gruelling five hours in Harry's life. As he had expected, Gordon introduced him to the other members of the faction. Harry had already met his host, Archibald Ogden, and Ernest Mcmillan, Ernie's father, at the wedding. However, it was a shock to meet Amos Diggory: Harry had seen him last in the infirmary the day after Cedric's death. The look Diggory gave him told him as as loud as if he had shouted it through the room that he blamed Harry for the death of his adored only child. It took all the social graces Daphne had drilled into him over the summer not to run away from these accusing eyes. He thought he must have done well, because no one gave him curious looks as he was introduced to the last member of the faction, Reginald Davies.

They debated long and heated about Kingsley's budget plan that was on the agenda of the upcoming Wizengamot meeting. After more discussion than the topic merited - at least in Harry's opinion - they finally agreed to support the plan, and the meeting was concluded.

However, Gordon was not yet finished with his education for that day. He took Harry back to _Gaellun,_ where they had dinner with Mary, and proceeded to teach him the intricacies of magical politics. To his horror, Harry found out that this afternoon's debate had been a short one: the debates of the Wizengamot usually lasted at least twice as long until a consent was reached. The sixty seats of the Wizengamot were split up into fifteen factions, which made pushing through anything a rather tedious business, Gordon told him with a cheerfulness Harry thought inappropriate.

Harry's head swam when he finally said his goodbyes to Gordon and Mary. Not trusting his ability to Apparate anymore - especially not after the generous amount of Firewhisky Gordon had given him after dinner to easen the horrors of the day - he called Sunny and asked him to take him back to their apartment at Hogwarts.

To his disappointment, Daphne wasn't there when he arrived. One look at the Marauder's Map told him that she was in the Seventh Year common room. When he walked into the room, he discovered that his wife and his friends were sitting in the group of chairs near one of the two fireplaces. Ron and Hermione had by now become a part of their group. Dean and Luna, however, were missing: they sat at the other end of the room, together with Seamus, Parvati, and - Harry hardly could trust his eyes - Ginny. Luna and Dean waved at him when he entered the room, but the other three ignored him.

Harry couldn't care less. The only person who mattered to him sat on one of the sofas, involved in a lively discussion with Lisa, Morag, and - surprisingly enough - Hermione. Morag said something that had all four girls laugh. As if she felt his gaze on herself, Daphne turned her head around. When she saw him, the smile on her face became even brighter.

'Harry! I didn't count on you being back before midnight.'

He gave her a kiss and then plopped down beside her with a huge yawn. 'It almost would've come to that. I thought they'd never come to an end. Worst of all, Gordon said this was a short meeting. They debated for five hours in a row, and he calls that short!'

Harry shook his head, while his friends laughed.

'Welcome to the world of magical politics,' Neville told him. 'I'm glad that granny decided that I don't have to take up the mantle of the Longbottom seat before I've finished my N.E.W.T.s.'

'Lucky you,' Harry murmured as he leaned his head against Daphne's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Hermione sniffed the air. 'Harry, have you been drinking?'

'Gordon gave me a Firewhisky after dinner. Said he didn't want me to faint on him,' Harry replied, his eyes still closed.

His friends chuckled at that.

'How are my parents?' Morag asked.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up straight. 'Fine. I had lunch and dinner with them. Mary said to give you and Ernie her love. I also talked to Ernest. He's thinking about beginning to introduce Ernie to his duties on the Wizengamot.'

Ernie let out a groan at that.

'It's not that bad, as soon as you get used to Amos Diggory droning on about why the funds of his department need to be at least doubled,' Harry told him with a grin. 'You won't be alone: we'll suffer together.'

'What a delightful thought,' Ernie snorted.

Daphne gave her husband a small push. 'I think you've had enough for today. Let's tuck you in, so that you can sleep off Uncle Gordon's Firewhisky. I don't want you to mess up in Potions tomorrow.'

Obediently, Harry allowed her to haul him off the sofa. They waved their friends goodnight and ambled to their rooms.

'Alright, what's bothering you?' Daphne asked as soon as they entered their living room.

'What gives you that idea?' he tried to stall time.

She snorted. 'Harry, we've spent almost each minute together since we got married. By now I can tell the difference if you're tired or upset. I allow you that you're tired after a long meeting. However, you were prepared excellently for today's meeting; there should've been nothing on the agenda to unsettle you; yet you are. What happened?'

He plopped down into the nearest armchair. Propping his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. He heard how Daphne settled down on the armrest beside him, and then felt her hand stroking through his hair. He let his arms sink. Opening his eyes, he leaned back in the chair and looked at her.

'It was Amos Diggory. It was the first time I met him since Cedric's death. He blames me, you know.'

Daphne continued massaging his scalp with light fingers. 'What gives you that idea? You were cleared of having killed Cedric immediately after the Tournament, weren't you? I imagine back then the Fudge administration happily would've used any opportunity to silence you. What better way to achieve that than to send you to Azkaban for the murder of Cedric Diggory? That they didn't, speaks volumes that they found no grounds to accuse you.'

'Tell that Amos Diggory,' he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head against her chest. 'By the way he looked at me this afternoon, he could as well have shouted "murderer!" He's not that far off, you know. I'm responsible for Cedric's death.'

'What makes you think that? I remember that Dumbledore told us that Cedric was murdered by Voldemort. That was confirmed once again in the official report about the second rise of Voldemort and the second war that was issued by Minister Shacklebolt about a week after the Battle.'

'That are the mere essentials,' he told her, not daring to look at her. 'Both Dumbledore and Kingsley kept most of the story under the rug to spare my feelings.'

'Will you then tell me now, to get it off your chest?' she asked softly.

He nodded, but still didn't look at her. 'Cedric and I helped each other during the Third Task. As a result, we both reached the Cup at the same time. I told Cedric to take it; after all, he was the true Hogwarts Champion, while the Goblet of Fire had been Confounded by a Death Eater to choose me as the champion of a fourth school. Cedric, the true Hufflepuff he was, refused that. He told me to take the Cup, that I had earned it. But my damned Gryffindor nobility got into the way, and I refused. Idiot that I am, I suggested that we should both take the Cup, as a joint victory for Hogwarts.' He laughed bitterly at that.

'The next second Cedric and I were yanked away by a Portkey. We found ourselves in a graveyard. The moment we hit the ground, my scar exploded with pain. It was dark, but there were people, I could hear them, and saw a hooded man who carried a bundle in a blanket that looked like a baby. Then a cold voice ordered, "Kill the spare!" There was a green light, and Cedric dropped down beside me, dead.' He gulped, trying to maintain his composure.

'I was horrified, and almost blinded with pain, and didn't think of escaping in time. The hooded man overpowered me, and tied me to a tombstone of a man named Tom Riddle.'

Daphne gasped at that. 'Voldemort's father?' she ventured a guess.

Harry nodded. 'I recognised Wormtail under the hood. He erected a cauldron and started boiling water in it. Then he unwrapped the bundle.' Again, he gulped.

'It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen. That - thing - in the bundle was no human being. It's skin was red and scaly, and it's face looked like that of a snake. Wormtail dropped it into the cauldron, and I remember I hoped it would drown.'

'Sweet Morgana,' he heard Daphne whisper. 'It was Voldemort before he regained his body, wasn't it? By the love of the goddess, what did he do to himself to become like that?' Her voice sounded horrified.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. There was no way he was going to tell her that tonight. Talking about Cedric's death and Voldemort's resurrection was hard enough.

'Wormtail began with a ritual to resurrect him. He summoned a bone from the grave of Voldemort's father. Then he sliced off his right hand and dropped it into the cauldron. Finally, he drew blood from my arm and also gave it into the cauldron. As soon as my blood was added to the horrible mix, Voldemort rose from the cauldron with a new body.'

He felt how Daphne wrapped her arms around him and held him close.

'Voldemort examined his new body, then he summoned his Death Esters by pressing the Dark Mark on Wormtail's left arm. As soon as the Death Eaters arrived, he berated them for their infidelity to him, and strutted about his greatness and the way he escaped death. I won't bore you with all the details; they're not of importance. In the end, he decided to humiliate me and make a spectacle out of my death for his Death Eaters. He cast the Torture Curse on me a couple of times, and then taunted me to beg him for mercy. When I refused, he put the Imperius Curse on me.'

'I remember that it was the talk of the school as you fought off Professor Moody's Imperius Curse in our fourth year. Don't tell me you were foolish enough to try something like that with Voldemort,' Daphne exclaimed.

In spite of his emotional upheaval, Harry had to chuckle. 'You know me too well, love. Of course I tried, and was successful on top of it. As you can imagine, Voldemort was furious about that, and decided it was time to get rid of me. Of course, he wouldn't have been Voldemort if he hadn't used that to humiliate me yet another time. He challenged me to a duel.'

He sensed how Daphne shook her head. 'What hubris! That you could shake off his Imperius Curse should've warned him that there's more to you than meets the eyes. He should've finished you off without giving you the chance to defend yourself. Of course that backfired: after all, you're still alive to tell the tale.'

'You're right, love; it backfired. But not because I'm exceptionally skilled or powerful. Once again, sheer, dumb luck helped me to escape.'

For the first time since he had begun his tale he raised his head and looked at her. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and there were the traces of tears on her face.

'I decided not to be a sitting duck, but to fight back with everything I had. Unfortunately, that wasn't much. When Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on me, all I could do was cast the Disarming Spell simultaneously. The spells collided midair. What he didn't know back then: our wands shared the same core. We both had wands with a Phoenix feather core, given by the same Phoenix. Because of their shared core, a strange phenomenon occured. The wands connected, and we both couldn't let go. We were both lifted midair and covered by a dome made out of a kind of golden web. I imagine I heard Phoenix song, telling me not to lift the spell. I saw a bead of light, travelling from the tip of Voldemort's wand to mine, and fought to force it back. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, but in the end I was successful: I forced the bead back into Voldemort's wand.'

Daphne gasped at that. 'You won a battle of will against him, at the age of fourteen? Oh Harry!' She tightened her arms around him as if she never wanted to let him go. Harry felt a teardrop splash on his head. 'What happened then?' she asked.

He softly disentangled himself from her embrace and leaned back.

'When I forced that bead back into his wand, it had the same effect as if I'd cast the Priori Incantatem Spell on it: his wand was forced to regurgitate the last spells that had been performed with it. At first, the ghost of a silver hand appeared: he had awarded Wormtail with it. But then the shadows of his last victims emerged from his wand: Cedric, an old man, Bertha Jorkins, and then…' He couldn't go on, and buried his head in her chest.

He hadn't to tell her.

'You saw your parents, didn't you?'

He nodded, not able to speak. He gulped several times, then continued, not recognising his voice as his own. 'The shadows told me to hold on, not to break the connection. When my parents emerged from the wand, they told me how proud of me they were. My mother told me that once I let go of the connection, they'd linger long enough for me to grab the Cup and to return. Cedric asked me to bring his body back to his parents. I remember that I nodded, then broke the connection. The shadows of my parents, Cedric, and his other victims rounded up on Voldemort. I ran to Cedric's body, and then Summoned the Cup to me, just when Voldemort got free and was about to cast the next Killing Curse on me. I barely escaped.'

He remembered the night after Voldemort's resurrection, when Mrs Weasley had held him in the infirmary: he had been on the brink of tears back then, and yet he had not been able to let go of the pain that was tearing him up. He wondered why he still wasn't able to cry, as he felt something hot running over his cheek, and then soaking into Daphne's school robes.

Daphne said nothing. She kept holding him, and rocked him gently as he cried, quietly and desperately, for the first time since he had been a very small child and the Dursleys had beaten that habit out of him.

 **MY**

Harry spend the next two days catching up on his homework in every free minute, so that he at least would have part of the weekend to himself: he had to meet with Percy on Saturday morning, then there was the games afternoon for the First Years to Third Years in the afternoon he and Daphne had to supervise as headboy and headgirl. Fortunately, all prefects had agreed to help them. This included Hermione, to Harry's surprise.

He finally found the time to catch up with Ron and Hermione on Friday night. Daphne visited with Tori in the Slytherin common room for some sisterly bonding time, or maybe to give her another headwashing about her relationship with Gideon: Harry hadn't asked as she told him where she would be after dinner.

In search for some company he ventured out to the Seventh Year common room, though he doubted that many of his classmates would be there. The news that the adult students could leave the castle on the weekend had spread, and Harry knew of quite a number of students who had gone home right after classes. Neville had been one of them. By the way he had beamed when he told Harry and Daphne goodbye as they met in the Entrance Hall when they were on their way to lunch, he was looking forward to a weekend with Hannah.

He met Ron on the Moving Staircase. His friend came from the direction of Professor Jones' office, and smiled as if he had just won the lottery. One look at the lapels of Ron's school robes told Harry the reason: next to his prefect's badge his best mate now also boasted the badge of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain.

It was a strange feeling to see that badge on his friend, and Harry had to remind himself sternly that he had given up the badge of his own will. If he was honest with himself, he didn't envy his friend of the work that came with that honour. Forming a bunch of strong-willed Gryffindors into a winning team was a nerve racking task. Until today Harry gritted his teeth when he thought of that moron McLaggen. But he couldn't deny that in a small, hidden corner of his heart he still longed for the carefree times he had had back then.

'Congratulations, Ron. Hestia couldn't have picked anyone better,' he told his friend, and slapped him on the shoulder.

'Thank you, mate,' Ron replied. Close up he had a slightly dazed expression, as if he couldn't believe that at least one of his secret desires as he had looked into the Mirror of Erised had come true. 'Say, are you free tonight? Won't you come with me to the old Gryffindor common room? It's been turned into a study room, but nobody is there on Friday nights except Hermione. I could need your input, you know. After all, you won the Cup in your year as Captain.'

Harry laughed. 'I doubt there's anything about the game I know that you don't, Ron. But I don't mind coming with you. It's been ages that the three of us have spent time together.'

Laughing and chatting, they walked to the Gryffindor common room. Headmistress McGonagall had made true of her promise to abandon the passwords: the Fat Lady swung to the side without even interrupting her talk with Violet.

Harry followed his friend through the portrait, trying to fight off the nostalgic feeling that assaulted him as he remembered how many times he had climbed through it when he still was allowed to live at the Gryffindor Tower. Not that he didn't want to live with Daphne, but the Gryffindor dorms had been the first place where he had felt at home.

The common room hadn't changed much: a few armchairs had been replaced with working tables, but there were still comfortable chairs enough left for those who wanted to read.

Ron had been right: the common room was empty, except for Hermione. She sat at her favourite table, her bushy head bent over a sheet of parchment, and scribbling furiously. When she heard their entrance, she looked up and smiled. Her glance fell on the new badge on Ron's robes, and she sprang up from her chair.

'Congratulations, Ron,' she cried and hugged him. Ron hugged her back, but Harry noticed that his best friends didn't kiss. Apparently, Ron's fears were about to become true, and their relationship wasn't to survive Hermione's current emotional state. At least they still seemed to be best friends, a feat Harry hadn't managed either with Cho or with Ginny.

Hermione took both of them by the arms and led them to their favourite chairs near the fireplace.

'It's about time we three spend some time together,' she said as they sat down.

Harry knew that she was dying to ask him about everything that had happened to him beside his marriage since she had left for Australia, and he braced himself for a long night with a plethora of uncomfortable questions. Fortunately, he got some reprieve, because Ron wanted to talk about Quidditch first.

However, even Ron had to admit that Harry knew far less about game strategics and training methods than he did, and didn't mind when Hermione distracted them from Quidditch with a question that obviously had burned on her mind ever since the train ride.

'How is it you can suddenly practise wandless magic, Harry? Have you trained after we left for Australia?'

Harry had to chuckle at that. 'Actually, I discovered that ability by accident on the morning after the Battle. Voldemort had kept what he thought was my dead body under the Torture Curse for a long time. You know how it is when you wake up after that the other day: your whole body hurts like hell.'

'Don't I know that,' Hermione whispered, and Ron grimaced.

'Well, I laid in my bed, and thought about going to the infirmary for help. But first I needed my glasses, or I wouldn't get very far, as blind as I am,' Harry continued his tale. 'The problem was, I was hurting so bad that I couldn't get up, and I remember that I thought I wished that I could make my glasses somehow come flying to me. The next thing I know is that they hit me square into the face.'

He chuckled again. 'Things like that kept happening to me that day. I thought about something I needed, or wanted to happen, and it came crashing into my face, or what I wanted to happen actually happened, but not without some damage. I admit I was a trifle out of it that day, so I didn't realise at once that I had discovered a new ability. Just the contrary, I thought I had bouts of accidental magic because of the things I've been through, and tried really hard to avoid these strange things happening to me any longer.'

His friends gaped at him.

'I had no idea back then,' Hermione exclaimed.

'Well, I didn't advertise it. Besides that, you and Ron were somehow distracted,' Harry replied drily. That made them both blush.

'Eventually, I realised that I felt different. The constant pain from my scar was gone. I hadn't so many nightmares anymore, and actually managed to have a restful sleep three or four times a week. My inner tension lessened, albeit slowly. I think it was around the time you left for Australia that I began to notice the difference in me.'

'That was two weeks after the Battle,' Hermione mused. 'I never noticed that something was different with you.'

'Neither did I,' Ron agreed.

'The changes were mariginaĺy back then. It wasn't until a week later that I made real progress. I'd made a walk, to be alone and clear my head. Ginny and I'd had another fight about one of these stupid parties, and my instinct told me I couldn't go on like that any longer. I think that was the first time in my life I thought things through. I knew that Ginny expected more from me than just being her boyfriend: her hints became more pronounced with each day that passed. I tried to imagine how a life with Ginny would be, and came up with a blank. That's when I realised that I had it to end it with her. I needed another week to pick up the courage for that, but that's another story.'

Hermione grinned at him. 'At least you found the courage to tell her, in contrary to our Won-Won.'

'Hey, I resent that' Ron exclaimed, but nevertheless joined their laughter.

'During that walk I also realised that I'd become different since the Battle. I was feeling balanced and in tune with myself for the first time since… well, I couldn't remember that I'd ever felt that well. I realised that my concentration and my focus had become better. Even my magic felt different. It was a kind of epiphany, you know. Something in me had broken free when I got rid of that Horcrux in me. I tried to summon a pebble to me wandlessly, and succeeded on the first try. From that day on, I've hardly ever used a wand.'

Hermione gasped. 'So, that Horcrux acted like a kind of block on your magic? You've always been more powerful than the rest of us, but after the Battle you've finally discovered your full potential?'

'Something like that,' Harry agreed. 'Though I doubt that I've already developed my full potential, as you call it.' He paused and scratched the back of his neck with his hand. 'You probably don't like to hear it, but I had another boost after I married Daphne. I haven't had a single nightmare since we got married, you know. You have no idea how liberating it is to be able to sleep peacefully each night.'

'I think I have' Hermione said quietly, and Ron reached over and patted her hand.

Harry shot her a weak grin. 'Well, then you know what I'm talking about. Daphne's helping me coping in many ways. Right after our marriage she started teaching me relaxation techniques which I've employed since then regularly. It was a precaution should we find us besieged by the press and I needed to keep my wits about me. Daphne said she didn't want my bad temper to explode into Skeeter's face like a volcano.'

That had the three friends chuckle.

'Wow, so she actually managed to disable your short fuse, mate?' Ron grinned.

'Seems so,' Harry agreed with a chuckle. 'But I also feel comfortable talking to her about the things that happened to me. Do you remember how you pestered me to talk after Sirius' death, Hermione? I couldn't to talk to you or Ron back then, but I have no problems talking to Daphne.'

Hermione didn't look thrilled about this revelation, but Ron nodded thoughtfully.

'I noticed the other day that she's a good listener. She gives advice without patronising you, doesn't she?'

Harry nodded to that.

'Have you already talked to her about the Horcruxes, mate?' Ron asked.

'No, but we came close to that the other day when we talked about Cedric's death. I'm not yet ready to talk about the Horcruxes, though.'

'Don't put that off indefinitely,' Ron advised. 'As I told you the other day, there are dumber things you can do than confide in your wife.'

Hermione startled. 'Ron, that's classified information! Do you really think it wise to let that information leak beyond the three of us and Kingsley?'

Ron gave her an indulgent smile. 'Hermione, you've seen Harry and Daphne together. Daphne urged Harry to tell you, of all people, everything about the way they got married, so you wouldn't be pestering him any longer. It must have been humiliating for her to let you know all the details, but she did it to help _him._ That speaks volumes about her feelings for him. Do you really think she'll betray his confidence?'

That silenced her.

Harry stared at his best friend. Would Ron ever cease to amaze him this year? However, he gave him a thankful nod.

'Anything else you'd like to know?' he asked Hermione.

She actually had the grace to blush at this and bit her lip.

Harry took mercy on her.

'The other day you asked me about my family holdings. Well, after Daphne and I got married, I came into my full inheritance after my grandfather, Fleamont Potter. It turned out that he skipped my father in my favour for whatever reasons. The vault I got from my parents was only the tip of the iceberg. The inheritance I got from my grandfather is vast, you know. In fact, it's so much that I've got about a dozen of goblins and Muggle bankers managing it. They turn to me for the last decision. When I turned eighteen, I found out that there was also a lot more to Sirius' estate than just his vault. The Black holdings are about the same size as the Potter holdings. On top of that, they brought me a seat on the Wizengamot. I'm still learning about my responsibilities, but I'm afraid that taking care of everything will be a full time job as soon as I leave school.'

His friends gaped at him, and he gave them a wry grin.

'The money doesn't make me any happier than I already am, but it makes things easier, you know. I've got the freedom to find out what I want to do with my life without having to worry how to make a living for Daphne and the children we're going to have one day. That's the real luxury for me: I take it as a compensation for everything that happened to me.'

Ron chuckled at that. 'Good for you, mate!' There was no trace of jealousy in his words, Harry noticed.

Hermione, however, gave him an ironic side glance. 'Lucky for you that you can afford your high maintenance wife.'

Harry rolled his eyes, but had to laugh about her remark. 'Actually, when we got married Daphne had run away from home. She shared an apartment in a not so nice part of London with three Muggle girls, and worked as a sales assistant in a Muggle boutique to make a living. I doubt she cares more about the money than I do, but just like me she appreciates the freedom it gives us.'

That silenced her.

Harry looked from Hermione to Ron. 'What about you two?' he asked softly.

Hermione seemed to shrink back in her seat, but Ron gave him a sad look.

'We've decided to put our relationship on hold as long as Hermione is trying to work out things. I'm there for her if she needs me, but we're not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.'

'I'm sorry,' Harry said.

Ron shrugged. 'At least we managed to stay best friends. That's more than you can say about one of your exes.'

'Busted,' Harry replied, and the three friends broke out into laughter.

Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to be inclined to share more confidentialities with him after that.

Harry looked at his watch. It was already later than he had thought, and Daphne would probably be back by now and wonder where he was. He told his friends goodnight and walked back to his apartment.

Curfew for Third Year to Sixth Year was nearing, and the hallways teemed with students who were on their way back to their dorms. Harry took a shortcut that was less known and therefore probably not as crowded as the main hallways. To his relief, the corridor was empty. He had a lot to think about. Hermione hadn't mentioned her visit to the infirmary. Just the contrary, she seemed to be hesitant to talk about her treatment, and Harry worried if she got everything she needed to become better. He was lost in his thoughts, and hardly paid heed to his surroundings.

Once again, his instincts saved him. He heard a faint rustle, and the soft whisper of an incantation. Without thinking, he ducked and threw himself behind a suit of armour for cover.

Not a moment too soon: the next heartbeat a spell in a deep magenta colour sizzled through the space where his head been not even a second ago, and impacted on the wall, leaving a deep scratch.

Harry silently and wandlessly put up a shield and peered from behind his cover, trying to find out the whereabouts of his attacker.

However, no more spells followed. He could hear the sound of running feet moving away from the place of the attack and turning into the main hallway. Swearing profusely, Harry pulled the Marauder's Map out of his mokeskin pouch and scanned it.

He was too late: whoever had attacked him, had already disappeared among the students who were back on their way to their dorms. There was no name that stood out for him. He looked for Nott's name, and found it in his apartment, next to Pansy's.

Of course, that wasn't conclusive, Harry reminded himself. Nott could have used the potion he gave to Richard Sprout once again, or he could have put any unsuspecting student under the Imperius Curse. Or, even worse, he could have found an alley within the castle who was willing to do the dirty work for him.

He put away the map and cancelled his shield. When he got back to his feet, he realised that he must have spread his ankle as he ducked from the spell.

'Just spiffing,' he murmured to himself. On top of it all, he had to go to the infirmary. There was no way he could keep this under wraps: Headmistress McGonagall's new policy demanded that he reported the incident to her. She would have to call the Aurors: the residue magic on the wall where the curse had impacted might give them a clue about his attacker.

He grimaced as he got to his feet and limped towards the Headmistress' office, and cast his Patronus to tell Daphne to meet him there. There was no way he could keep this from her: she would be furious with him. But he dreaded to put even more stress on her.

 **MY**

Daphne caught up with him as he turned into the corridor that led to Headmistress McGonagall's office. She noticed at once that he was limping.

'Harry! What happened to you?' she cried, and took his arm to support him. Her eyes scanned him for more injuries.

'I'm alright, kitty. It's nothing more than a sprained ankle,' he tried to assure her, but the way she held his arm told him that he failed miserably.

'What happened?' she asked once again.

Harry sighed. 'Let's go up to McGonagall. I don't want to have to tell my story twice.'

He had sent his Patronus to Headmistress McGonagall to announce their arrival, and the Gargoyle stepped aside as soon as he saw them. They rode the Spiralling Staircase in silence.

Professor McGonagall's door was already open, and the headmistress sat behind her desk.

'Come in,' she called as soon as she saw them. When she noticed Harry's limp, her face became concerned. 'What happened?' she asked and motioned for them to sit down in the chairs in front of her desk.

Harry sat down with a relieved sigh, glad that the weight was finally taken off his ankle. The edges of his shoe cut into his flesh, a sure sign that it was swollen, and his ankle throbbed with pain.

'I got attacked in one of the hallways on my way back from the Gryffindor common room,' he said without any preamble. He knew that there was no way to sugarcoat things for Daphne, so he told the facts of the attack as impersonally as possible.

Headmistress McGonagall's face became grim during his tale. As soon as he had finished, she rose from her chair and went to the fireplace. She took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the flames. 'Auror office,' Harry heard her call.

He turned towards his wife. Daphne had been uncharacteristically silent during his tale. Her cheeks were as white as a bedsheet, and her eyes were wide and round.

'Nott?' she whispered.

He shrugged. 'No idea. I looked at the Marauder's Map, but whoever it was, had already disappeared among the other students in the hallway. Nott and Parkinson were in their apartment. But that's not telling anything, considering what happened to Richard Sprout,' he replied in a low voice, mindful of Headmistress McGonagall's presence in the room.

Daphne nodded mutely. The panicked expression had not yet faded, and she reached out and grabbed his hand as if she was afraid that he was taken from her side any second. A small spark appeared in her eyes, and a slight blush crept in her cheeks as she turned around to face him.

'Damn you, Harry, you promised to be careful!'

He cupped her face with the palm of his hand. 'I'm sorry, love. I became careless. It won't happen again.'

'See to that,' she hissed quietly. 'No more walking alone through the hallways for you, buster! If you have to, use your Invisibility Cloak and your map to make sure it is safe.'

'Alright,' he agreed, knowing that nothing else would appease her in her agitated state.

She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her shoulder, worried how she would deal with that second reminder that there was a price on his head.

t.b.c.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's notes:** Another update fresh from my tablet, and without editing, because I wanted to post it before the one-year-anniversary of the last updates. Bear with my mistakes. (You have no other choice, anyway).

 **AN2:** Now edited by CaskettFan5. Thank you so much!

* * *

 **9**

Headmistress McGonagall pulled her head out of the green flames of the Floo and stood up.

'The Aurors will be here presently,' she said and cleaned the soot from her hair and shoulders.

She had just finished when the Floo flared again, and four men stepped out of the flames in short succession.

'I'm Senior Auror Proudfoot,' the oldest one introduced himself. 'This are Senior Auror Dawlish, and Aurors Masters and Hopkins. Now, who has been attacked, and where did it happen?'

'That would have been me,' Harry said and got up from his seat. 'The attack happened on my way from the Gryffindor common room on the seventh floor back to our apartment on the third floor. It was close to curfew, and I wanted to avoid the crowded stairs and took a shortcut. That's where it happened.'

The eyes of the four Aurors went wide when they recognised him, other than that they kept a professional attitude.

'Will you show Aurors Dawlish and Hopkins the crime scene, Mr Potter? They are going to secure the evidence, if there's any. We have to take your statement afterwards. Maybe Headmistress McGonagall can show us a free office or classroom for that purpose?'

Headmistress McGonagall also got to her feet. 'Of course; please, follow me.'

Daphne had been quiet while the Aurors introduced themselves; she'd maintained a calm face while she listened, however, her fidgeting hands gave her nervousness and fear away. Now she piped up.

'Harry, what about your ankle? You could barely walk up here.'

Senior Auror Proudfoot tried to get a look at Harry's feet. 'What about your ankle, Mr Potter?'

Harry shrugged. 'I must've sprained it when I ducked behind that suit of armour when that spell was cast at me. Don't worry, I'll manage; I've had worse.'

Daphne huffed. 'Of course you'll manage. Really, Harry, of all the pigheaded males at this school you're the worst.'

Senior Auror Proudfoot let out a strangled noise, and the corners of his mouth twitched. 'There's no need to get into a fight over such a trifle, Miss …?'

'Potter; Daphne Potter,'

'Oh, excuse me, Mrs Potter, I didn't know. If your husband would show me his ankle, I'm sure I can fix the problem for him to be able to show us the crime scene without doing more harm to himself. He can get himself fixed up at the infirmary afterwards.'

Daphne still didn't look convinced, but Harry put his foot forward and pulled the leg of his trousers up.

'Hold still,' Senior Auror Proudfoot said. He let his wand slip into his hand from a holster at his forearm and cast a silent colourless spell at Harry's ankle.

At once, the pain and the throbbing subsided, and Harry let out an involuntary sigh.

'Better?' Senior Auror Proudfoot asked and let the wand slip back into its place.

Harry nodded. 'Loads better. Thank you, Senior Auror Proudfoot.'

'Excellent,' the auror said. 'Well, let's get going. We don't want that bastard to cover his tracks by removing the evidence while we're having smalltalk.'

They all filed out of the room behind Headmistress McGonagall. When they stepped out into the hallway from behind the gargoyle, Headmistress McGonagall indicated with her hand to a door at the opposite side of the hallway. 'You'll find a conference room behind that door you can use for your interrogations, Senior Auror Proudfoot.'

Senior Auror Proudfoot thanked her and turned to Harry. 'Please, meet us here as soon as you've shown Aurors Dawlish and Hopkins the crime scene.'

Harry nodded and led the Aurors down the hallway towards the shortcut near the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms.

Daphne walked with them as far as to the staircase. 'I'll go back to our apartment and wait for you there, Harry.'

He nodded and watched over his shoulder how her back disappeared as she walked down the stairs, while he walked on with the Aurors. He hated to let her go on her own: she'd still been as white as a sheet; he should've gone with her and calm down her fears. That was impossible, so he accelerated his steps. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could go back to Daphne.

Soon they reached the corridor where the attack had happened. Harry pointed towards a suit of armour that was slightly out of line, compared to the other suits of armour that adorned the torchlit corridor. 'I think that's the one I ducked behind when I heard someone casting a spell. The spell sizzled over my head and impacted with the wall. It might have been my imagination, but I think I've heard small pieces of stone falling to the ground when it did, so I'm sure there's a scorch mark on the wall.'

'Do you remember what colour the spell had?' Auror Dawlish asked.

'A deep shade of magenta.'

The two Aurors exchanged a look. Auror Dawlish pressed his lips into a thin line. 'There should definitely be a scorch mark if it was the curse I'm afraid it was,' he said.

In the dim, flickering light of the torches it was hard to tell if there was any impact from the curse on the wall. Auror Hopkins pulled his wand and directed it at the wall. 'Lumos maxima.'

A bright beam of light erupted from the tip of his wand and illuminated the stretch of the wall behind the suit of armour Harry had pointed out to the Aurors. A little to the left from the suit of armour and perhaps a foot higher than its helmet there was a dark scorch mark on the wall.

Auror Dawlish stepped to the wall, his wand brandished, and cast a couple of silent Detection Charms at the scorch mark. It gave off an eerie blue glow. The Auror slipped his wand back into the holster and turned around, a hard expression on his face.

'Just like I thought: the Brain Liquefying Curse.'

Auror Hopkins let out an expletive.

'The what?' Harry asked. He'd never heard of such a curse.

'It's an exceptionally nasty curse that was invented about a century ago. It does exactly what it says and turns your brains into a liquid mush when you're hit with it. On the good side, it has to hit your head square or it won't work, and it demands a lot of magical power. That's why it never became widely used, only a few wizards and witches can master it. On the downside it's almost irreversible. The counter curse needs to be administered in less than a minute. Unfortunately, the intended victims can't do it, because their brains are instantly turned to mush and they are reduced to the empty shell of a human, much like someone who received the Dementor's Kiss,' Auror Dawlish explained.

Harry's stomach lurched, and ice spread out from his midriff all over his body. The suits of armour swayed before his eyes in the unsteady light of the torches, and he had to employ everything Daphne had ever taught him about self-calming methods to prevent himself from gasping. Seemed he had escaped a horrible fate by hair's breadth.

Auror Hopkins had pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of the corridor, the suits of armour and the scorch mark while Auror Dawlish explained the curse to Harry. Now he turned to Harry.

'Will you please stand next to the scorch mark, Mr Potter?'

Harry did as he was told. The mark was exactly at the height of his head, and he gulped.

The Auror gave him a knowing smile. 'Not a nice curse to be hit with, indeed. It's only thanks to your good reflexes you managed to escape a horrible fate, Mr Potter. Oh well, thank you for your help; you may return to Senior Auror Proudfoot while Dawlish and I wrap up the crime scene.'

Harry bade the two Aurors goodbye and walked back to the conference room opposite of the gargoyle. He couldn't get the image of the spell out of his head when it hit the wall where his head had been only a split second before. What a narrow escape! The palms of his hands became moist, and he wiped them on his school robes.

He had to get a grip on himself, he was safe, at least for the moment, and panicking would lead to nothing. He'd better concentrate on the possible suspects.

Nott had been in his apartment when the incident happened. Although he had not dirtied his hands with the actual attack, he still might be the instigator behind it. From what Dawlish had told him about the curse, it was also doubtful if Nott was capable of casting it. He had observed the git during their D.A.D.A classes. Hestia put them up to mock duels at least once a week. Nott's spell casting was mediocre, at best. His aim was off most of the time, and he didn't put much power behind his spells, either. He had to be an extremely good actor to fake that. Subtlety, however, wasn't Nott's strong point, either, not by the way he'd given his hatred away at the Welcoming Feast.

That still didn't mean he didn't have an accomplice, or maybe forced someone who was more powerful into doing it. His own lack of power wouldn't matter in that regard if he had cast the Imperius Curse on someone's back, or had used that horrible potion yet another time.

Come to think of that, there were only few students at Hogwarts who were powerful enough to cast that curse. About a handful of the seventh years should be able to, and no more than two or three of the sixth years, and probably nobody below that.

However, what if it hadn't been a student? He couldn't leave out the teachers. Not McGonagall, Flitwick or Sprout; even though they were powerful enough, they had no reason to kill him. Neither Hagrid, nor Slughorn, as well. The first didn't have the schooling, the latter was too lazy and still hoped to ride on the coattails of his fame. However, what did he know about professors Babbling, Sinistra and Vector? And what about the new professors? That he hadn't seen their names on the Marauder's Map didn't mean they hadn't been there: they could have made it out of the adjoining corridor before he was through with examining all the names.

He'd reached the conference room over his musings and knocked on the door.

'Come in,' Senior Auror Proudfoot's voice called.

Harry opened the door and walked into the room.

Senior Auror Proudfoot and Auror Masters were sat next to each other at the end of a long conference table that was lit by candles suspending in the air above the table.

'Please, take a seat, Mr Potter,' Senior Auror Proudfoot said, and motioned with his hand towards a chair opposite of himself.

Harry slipped into the chair, while Auror Masters set up a stack of parchment and a Dicta Quill.

'Witness interview; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, September eleventh, nineteen-ninety-eight.'

The quill scratched over the paper, and hovered when Auror Masters stopped talking. He read what the quill had recorded and gave a nod towards Senior Auror Proudfoot as a sign that the tool operated correctly.

Senior Auror Proudfoot gave his and Auror Masters name and title before he asked Harry for his full name, date of birth and residency.

'Harry James Potter, born July thirty-first nineteen-eighty, currently living at Hogwarts,' Harry replied. He wouldn't give away the address of one of his houses if he could help it; not as long as he deemed it necessary still to live under the protection of a Fidelius Charm.

The Aurors seemed to be content with the information he'd provided, for they continued the interview.

'Please, tell us what happened to you tonight, Mr Potter.'

For the second time that night Harry described how he had left the Gryffindor common room, became annoyed at the crowded hallways and decided to take a lesser known shortcut, when he heard a noise behind him that made him duck for cover just in time. 'I put up a shield the moment I went down, but the attacker didn't try a second time. Instead, I heard him running away.'

'Did you get a look at him?' Senior Auror Proudfoot asked.

Harry shook his head. 'Sorry, no. If I may venture a guess, it probably was one of the students I passed in the crowded hallway on the seventh floor who followed me.' He had no inclination to tell the Aurors about the Marauder's Map; what if they'd decide to confiscate one of the few personal things he had from his father for evidence?

Senior Auror Proudfoot seemed not to suspect he was hiding something from him. 'Do you remember the students you saw on that corridor?'

He had been ready for that question and gave the Aurors a list of names of the students he knew, and a description of the faces he couldn't match with a name.

The Dicta Quill jotted everything down. Auror Masters cast a look at the list. 'We'll have to continue from there and interview each of the students you listed, Mr Potter. Maybe that'll lead us to a suspect or two. That's tedious work, but it usually pays off to turn every stone.'

Harry gave him a noncommittal nod; Head Auror Robards had said something along that line when he brought him the report from the Department of Mysteries about the potion Richard Sprout had been fed. It still sounded boring.

'Is that all?' he asked. 'I should go to the infirmary and present my ankle to Madam Pomfrey, or she'll have my hide.' The throbbing pain had returned during the interview.

That elicited a chuckle from Senior Auror Proudfoot. 'Dear, old Poppy. Is she still that strict?'

'You have no idea,' Harry replied with rolling eyes.

Both Aurors laughed at that. 'You're free to go, Mr Potter. If you remember anything else, no matter how insignificant you might think that detail, please let us know.'

'I will,' Harry said and got to his feet. The moment he pushed his chair back, the door opened. Harry looked over his shoulder.

Head Auror Robards entered the room. When his eyes fell on Harry, a smile crept over his face.

'Ah, Mr Potter, I'm happy to still have met you. I was informed about the attack on you and decided to have a look myself how the investigation is going. If this becomes public, the magical world will go wild, and Kingsley will have my head if I don't turn every stone to find out the culprit.'

He held out his hand to Harry, and Harry shook it, even though he hardly managed to suppress a groan. Couldn't Robards have waited with that until tomorrow morning? Aloud he said, 'That is very considerate of you, Head Auror Robards, although it wasn't necessary. I don't want any special treatment.'

Head Auror Robards let out a gruff laugh. 'That's honourable of you, Mr Potter. After everything I've seen of you I wouldn't have expected anything less. However, the magical public will go bonkers if they think we didn't do right by Britain's greatest living hero, so you'll get the VIP treatment with bells and whistles, like it or not.'

Harry grimaced, and the three Aurors laughed. Head Auror Robards turned to his subordinates. 'I'd like to have a private word with Mr Potter.'

He waited until the two Aurors had left the room, pulled out a chair for himself and motioned Harry to sit down again.

'Tell me, Mr Potter, is there a chance Nott is involved in this?' he asked without preamble.

A flash went through Harry's body, and he barely stopped himself from gaping at Robards. There had been no indication Robards suspected Nott when he went to see him with the results of the blood analysis.

The Head Auror seemed to sense his surprise and hurried to give an explanation. 'Mr Nott has been our prime suspect right from the beginning, Mr Potter. He's the only one of your male guests who had connections to the Death Eaters through a close relative, and seemed to follow Tom Riddle. The former is also true for Matthew Flint; however, contrary to Mr Flint, Nott also expressed his allegiance to Tom Riddle during the last war. That made him our prime suspect before Mr Flint. Unfortunately, our investigations on the continent so far are without a result.'

'I remember you planned on interviewing the potion master on the continent who are able to brew the potion that was fed to Richard Sprout,' Harry said. 'I gather your investigation revealed that none of them was contacted about this?'

'Just the contrary, Mr Potter.' Robards let out a sigh.

Harry raised his eyebrows. Why that defeated attitude? It was a good thing the Aurors found out that the potion master had been contacted about that potion, wasn't it?'

'Out of the five potion master who are able to brew that potion, four confirmed they had been contacted, but refused to brew the potion. One denied to have ever got such a proposal, which makes us think he is our man.'

Harry leaned back in his chair. 'I don't see your problem, sir. Surely the four potion master gave you a description of the individual who contacted them.'

Robards let out a mirthless laugh. 'They gave us good and detailed descriptions. The first one was contacted by a man in his forties, with glasses and greyish brown hair. The second one got an offer from a young beauty in her early twenties with long, auburn hair. The third one talked to a very distinguished looking man of about sixty years with a heavy Italian accent, and the last one was approached by a platinum blonde bombshell of about thirty.'

Harry made a face at this. 'I see your problem. I doubt whoever is behind it revealed their true appearance to the potion master. My guess is heavy Glamour Charms or even Polyjuice. Right now you even don't know for sure if it's a single perpetrator, or if there's a whole gang behind it, probably former Death Eaters.'

'We came to the same conclusions, Mr Potter,' Head Auror Robards said. He leaned forward in his chair, put his arms on the table and folded his hands. 'The only useful news we gathered from these interviews was that the potion masters were all approached after the invitations to your wedding ball had been sent out, which points at a guest of that ball being the perpetrator. Thus my blunt question. It would bring us forward in our investigation if we could nail Nott as the main suspect. We'd be able to dig deeper from there on, you know.'

'I understand.' Now it was Harry's turn to sigh. 'However, it wasn't Nott who cast the curse.'

'So you saw the perpetrator?'

Harry shook his head. 'What I'm going to tell you will stay between us, is that clear, Head Auror Robards?'

The eyes of the older man widened for a split second, but he nodded.

'I've got this map of Hogwarts, it shows the whereabouts of everyone in the castle. My father and his friends made it as a pranking tool. It's one of the few personal things I have from my father, and I'd hate to lose it.'

'I see,' Robards said. A grin appeared on his face. 'I'd have loved to have had such a map during my Hogwarts days. It sounds like a damned useful thing to have with you to get back to your dorm after curfew.'

Harry returned his grin. 'Oh, it is.' He sobered. 'I took the map out after the attack and tried to find out who was running away from me. However, he had already disappeared among the students crowding the hallways. The next thing I did was looking out for Nott's name. He was in his apartment, in his bedroom, to be precise, together with his wife.'

The Head Auror showed no sign of embarrassment at this revelation. 'That's the kind of alibi that makes me highly suspicious.'

Harry snorted; the more he saw of that man, the more he liked him. 'That he stayed in his rooms doesn't mean he's innocent. The potion is proof enough the perpetrator is able to manipulate someone into doing the dirty work for him.'

'You think like an Auror, Mr Potter,' Head Auror Robards said, and gave him an appreciative nod. 'That brings me to the real reason why I came here tonight. We don't have any proof against the bastard - yet. However, he won't stop here, not Nott. That family is famous for their tenacity. He'll try again. You need to be prepared for that, Potter. I hate to say it, but as long as you and he are here at Hogwarts, you are our best bet to bait him into action once again.'

Harry went cold inside. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. Why again, why him? Gods, he was so tired of this; why did those morons keep coming after him?

He pulled his hands from his face, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and gave Head Auror Robards a long, level look. 'What makes you think I'm willing to play the sitting duck?'

Robards gaped at him. 'But -.'

Harry raised his hand to interrupt him. 'You see me as the fighter against evil, Head Auror Robards, just as the majority of the magical population. Nobody gives a damn that I've been forced into that fight by Riddle and hated every minute of it. Had I known a means to escape from my so-called fate, I would've taken it gladly. However, Riddle was a powerful wizard and backed up by his Death Eaters as well as by the incompetence and corruption of our government. My only hope of escaping him was making sure he died, and this time for good. I was all alone in the world and didn't care if I died along with him.'

He paused and took a deep breath. Robards still gaped at him, however, he made no attempt to interrupt him.

'Things have changed since then.' Harry continued in a much calmer manner. 'I'm married, my wife and I are talking about having a family after Hogwarts. I'd very much like to see my children grow up, and I want to grow old with my wife and watch my grandchildren play at my feet. Nott is no Voldemort, Head Auror. He has neither his power, nor his back-up. He's nothing more than a petty criminal, and I'm sure you can handle him. At this point, nothing will prevent me from withdrawing from Hogwarts and returning to the safety of my private home, if I deem the threat Nott poses as too dangerous.'

Head Auror Robards didn't answer at once. He furrowed his brows and shifted in his seat. At length, he said, 'I owe you an apology, Mr Potter. Asking you to act as a living bait was asking too much after everything you've done for our world. I get it you're not planning on becoming an Auror anymore?'

'Apology accepted,' Harry said and smiled at him. 'Don't get me wrong, if it was one year ago and only about me, I would've agreed, and probably would've joined the Aurors next year. But I also have to think of Daphne. She isn't made for this; she'd play along for my sake, but it would slowly kill her and make her unhappy.'

'Only few women can stand the pressure of being the wife of an Auror. That's why so many of us stay unmarried or get divorced.'

Harry grimaced. 'The latter is no option for Daphne and me.' He didn't elaborate further, and Head Auror Robards didn't ask. Probably the man thought they had religious reservations against a divorce.

Robards got to his feet. 'Sorry for taking up your time, Mr Potter. It's late, and you most likely want to return to your wife'

'Don't mention it,' Harry replied.

He bade Head Auror Robards goodbye and limped towards the infirmary. The throbbing pain in his ankle had become more insistent by the minute during his talk to the Head Auror. He'd been through worse, though, and had managed to ignore the pain with the ease of long practise. He cast a quick glance on the wristwatch Daphne had given him for his birthday and suppressed a sigh: it was already well past midnight.

Someone must have told Madam Pomfrey to expect him: when he pushed the door to the infirmary open and limped into the room, she was already waiting for him, leaned back against one of the beds, and her arms folded in front of her chest over her pristine, white apron. The scowl on her face didn't bode well for him.

She pushed herself off the bed and motioned with her hand to the bed under the window that somehow seemed to have become "his" bed; she'd put him there any time he had had to visit the infirmary.

'Take off your shoes and your socks and lay down, Mr Potter.'

Her voice sounded angry, and Harry hurried to do as he was told. He knew better than to argue with Madam Pomfrey when she was in such a temper: she'd force him to stay in the infirmary overnight, and that would scare Daphne to death.

The mediwitch pulled her wand out of the pocket of her apron and waved it over his ankle. If possible, her scowl became deeper by the minute.

'You've had more luck than you deserved, Mr Potter,' she said at length. 'It's only a sprained ankle. However, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here tonight. You ought not to strain your ankle anymore tonight.'

Harry's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, and he bit his lips. How would Daphne deal with him not returning tonight?

He shook his head. 'That's not an option, Madam Pomfrey. Daphne will freak if I don't return soon. What if I have a means to return to our rooms without walking?'

The matron's stern gaze became soft. 'I forgot about your wife.' With a flick of her wand she summoned two vials of potion. 'Drink this one immediately, and the other one tomorrow morning. Mind you, no walking!'

Harry obeyed and downed the potion. It tasted like burnt socks mixed with earwax.

'Ew.' He shuddered.

Madam Pomfrey glared at him. 'You can count yourself lucky I won't keep you in the infirmary tonight, young man. One more word, and I'll revise my decision.' Another flick of her wand conjured a stabilising bandage around his ankle.

Harry on bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from a flippant remark. By now he knew better than to evoke Madam Pomfrey's wrath.

'Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,' he said. 'Sunny!'

With a soft _plop!_ his elf appeared beside his bed.

Madam Pomfrey's eyebrows went up a notch, but she refrained from a comment.

Harry gave her a cheeky salute. 'Please, take me back to the apartment, Sunny.'

The next moment he found himself in the living room of the small apartment he shared with Daphne. It was cold in the room; the fire seemed to have gone out a long time ago, and all candles were extinguished. Daphne had not closed the curtains in front of the window; however, the moon was waning, so only little light poured into the room, and he almost didn't see his wife, huddled in the armchair next to the window.

Madam Pomfrey's warnings forgotten, Harry rushed over to her and took her in his arms. She was as cold as an icicle, and in the faint light coming from the window tear tracks were visible on her face, though her eyes now were dry and clear.

'You should've gone to bed, sweetheart, instead waiting up for me and getting all cold.' He rubbed her arms and back to warm her.

Daphne shook her head. 'I wouldn't have been able to sleep as long as you weren't back, love. Tell me, is there any progress in finding the perpetrator?'

Harry stopped his ministrations. What was he supposed to tell her? Certainly not what a narrow escape he had had, and most definitely not Head Auror Robards' request to play the goat on the leash for the perpetrator: she'd freak out at that in her present state.

Aloud he said, 'Let's go to bed first, alright? Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep me in the infirmary tonight and only agreed to let me go when I promised not to put more strain on my ankle.'

As he had hoped, that distracted her. She insisted on helping him into the bedroom and fussed over him until he finally laid in his bed. Strange enough, he didn't mind her fussing at all. Just the contrary, it was nice, at least every now and then.

'Well?' she asked, as soon as they lay next to each other. She turned towards him, propped up her elbow and rested her head in the palm of her hand. The light of the Everlasting Candle burning behind her on her bedside table cast a golden halo around her head.

Harry gave in to the inevitable. He told her about how the Aurors had investigated the scorch mark on the wall, but kept to himself what Auror Dawlish had told him about the curse that had been cast at him. However, he told her everything about his thoughts on Nott's involvement and the interview with Aurors Proudfoot and Masters. 'I might even have been back before midnight, hadn't Head Auror Robards turned up, too.'

Her eyebrows shot up at that. 'What did he want?'

'Making sure I got the VIP treatment with bells and whistles,' Harry replied, a scowl on his face.

Daphne laughed at that. 'I'm not surprised. The job of the Head Auror is about fifty percent administration, and the rest is politicking. For the sake of the department he had to make sure that all strings are pulled in your case, Harry, or the public uproar would be horrible. Just wait and see what happens when this becomes public.'

The scowl on Harry's face deepened. 'I don't know. The _Prophet_ most likely will deny the incident ever happened and call me an attention seeking brat once again.'

Daphne reached out with her hand and caressed his cheek. 'Poor baby. Sic Percy on them if they do; one lawsuit more or less won't hurt them.'

Harry laughed and kissed her hand. 'Spoken like a true, heartless Slytherin. At least the Aurors believed what I told them. Head Auror Robards even shares our suspicion against Nott, however, they don't have anything against him to dig deeper - yet.' He told her about the results of the interviews with the potion master. 'As you see, the bastard managed to cover his tracks well.'

She withdrew her hand, sat up, and slung her arms around her knees. For a long time she stared ahead into the darkness of the room, a deep scowl on her face.

'You need to get rid of Nott,' she said at length. The flame of the candle sent flickering lights across her face, and for a short moment it looked downright diabolic.

Harry startled. Did she really mean what her words implied?

'You want me to kill him?'

She turned her head towards him and bit her lip. 'No, I know you'd never do that, as long as it isn't in self-defence, even though it would solve our problem nicely.'

He shook his head, even laughed a little, although he knew she _was_ contemplating Nott's death. She was a Slytherin, they looked out for their own, and they weren't squeamish about their means. And he wasn't the naïve teenager anymore who had done the work of an army of adults. Equipped with the experience of a war, he'd handle a lot of things differently today, so much was sure.

He reached out with his hand and caressed her beautiful hair that cascaded down her back. 'You're right, love, I'd rather not, though I see the advantages of it. So, tell me, what do you want me to do?'

She turned her head and gave him a mischievous smile. 'I've corrupted you, didn't I?' She sobered and shrugged her shoulders. 'Since we both don't want to leave Hogwarts, we somehow need to remove him from the castle. You won't be safe as long as he is here. We need to fabricate something that will get him expelled.'

'Ruthless little snake.'

Daphne hissed, very much like the snake he'd just called her. 'Don't patronise me, Harry.'

Heat shot into Harry's cheeks. He glared at his wife. 'Don't try to turn me into a backstabbing bastard,' he replied. 'I still have some scruples, you know.'

She huffed at that. 'Much good your scruples will do you if you're dead.' Her voice broke, and she blinked a couple of times.

Harry's heart melted on the spot at the sight of tears in her eyes, and his anger deflated. He also sat up and put his arm around her. 'I'm sorry, love. Nott's not worth a fight. Maybe we should adjourn this discussion; we're both tired and troubled by the attack.'

He laid back and pulled her with him; she followed without resistance until she came to rest on his chest. A short wave of his hand extinguished the candle on her bedside table. They lay in the darkness without talking, and soon Daphne's breath became even. Harry, however, lay wide awake; the memory of his discussion with Robards about baiting Nott refused to leave him alone. It was at odds with Daphne's wish to get rid of that bastard asap - or wasn't it? Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone? He was still pondering that problem when sleep claimed him.

Neither he nor Daphne had thought of setting the Alarm-Clock-Spell when they went to sleep, so Harry woke up the next morning with not even ten minutes to spare for his appointment with Percy.

He cursed, jumped out of bed, and hurried through an abbreviated morning routine. He was still buttoning his robes when he gave Daphne a rather perfunctory kiss in goodbye and called for Sunny to Apparate him to Percy's office.

If Percy noticed his hair was even messier than usual, he didn't let on. Instead, he put the draft of the will in front of him for him to read and examine.

'You were right,' he said, 'a lot of what you wanted to achieve with your will is already covered by the Potter House Charter, especially the part about emancipating the widow and giving her custody of the still minor children, even in case there is a heir who already has reached his or her majority. Given that part of your house charter was added about three-hundred years ago, I'd say your ancestors were a pretty progressive bunch.'

They laughed, and Harry studied the draft of his will. The hair at the nape of his head rose, and he raised his hand to rub the back of his neck. It still was disconcerting to have to make provisions for a time he wouldn't be anymore, however, in the light of what had happened last night it was more necessary than ever.

He handed the draft back to Percy. 'As far as I can tell everything we talked about is included.'

'Are you ready to sign?' Percy asked.

Harry nodded, and Percy called in two paralegals as witnesses. He pushed the papers back to Harry, handed him a Blood Quill and indicated with his index finger to the line where he had to sign.

Harry made a face, but took the quill and signed.

Percy and the paralegals, he noticed, took a normal quill to sign.

'That's not fair,' he said.

That had them chuckle. 'It's required by law, so you'll have to put up with it,' Percy said. He gathered the will and put it back into a folder with a nod of thanks at his paralegals.

The women left the room, and Percy reached out for another folder labelled with 'Tracey-Davis-Foundation for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards'.

'This is the charter of the foundation,' he said, and put a piece of parchment in front of Harry. 'You need to sign that first. The rest -' he motioned with his hand towards a stack of letters still left in the folder '- are letters to the Ministry pertaining to the registration of the new foundation, and invitations to the board of governors for a first meeting. Oh, I almost forgot.' He pulled another sheet of parchment out of the folder. 'You'll need to sign that. It's an authorisation for the Goblins to transfer the gold from your vaults to the vault I'm going to open for the foundation as soon as the board of governors has appointed me as manager.'

Harry nodded, sighed, and tried to read his way through the charter. Even though he eventually became accustomed to dealing with things like that, the legal mumbo-jumbo went right over his head. He should've taken Daphne with him, she was much better at this than he. However, that would've meant to tell her about the will. He was not quite ready for that, not after how panicked she'd reacted towards yesterday's attack. He'd wait a couple of days until she'd calmed down somewhat and tell her then.

He gave it up as a lost cause to try to understand the charter, and nodded at Percy that he was ready to sign.

Once again, Percy called the paralegals into the room, and the procedure with the Blood Quill and Percy and the paralegals also signing was repeated.

The women left the room, and Percy pushed the stack of letters towards him. Ten minutes later, Harry's hand hurt, but he was rewarded by the satisfying knowledge that everything was well on its way.

He returned to Hogwarts just in time for lunch. Almost every head turned towards him when he walked into the Great Hall. His stomach gave an uncomfortable jolt, and he halted his steps. He should've known that nothing stayed a secret at Hogwarts for long; by now the Aurors must've made good on their announcement to interview the students from the list he'd given to them. That was enough to make the rumour mill run wild, and by default the student body assumed he was somehow involved in this.

Well, they were right, but he hadn't come into the Great Hall to satisfy their curiosity. He was hungry after his chaotic start of the day without a proper breakfast and the time spent in Percy's office. He gave an inward shrug and continued to the Hufflepuff table where their group of friends had met for lunch.

He sat down next to his wife, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and pulled a plate with delicious smelling chicken towards himself. Daphne grinned, reached for the bowl with the potatoes and ladled some on his plate. He thanked her with a small smile.

'Harry James Potter, what in Merlin's name happened after you left us yesterday night? Care to tell us why Aurors were at school and interviewed every student above third year about their whereabouts last night?'

Harry suppressed a groan. He should've known Hermione would interrogate him as soon as she got the opportunity. He didn't stop ladling food on his plate, and didn't bother to look at her, either.

'Sorry, Hermione; I overslept this morning and missed breakfast before I had to leave for my appointment. I'm absolutely famished and would appreciate to have my lunch before submitting myself to your interrogation.' He took the cutlery in his hand and cut into the meat on his plate.

A round of chuckles went through the group of their friends.

Hermione, however, huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'Fine!'

Harry grinned. Some things obviously never changed. 'No, you're not fine with it,' he said around a mouthful of potatoes. 'Nevertheless, I guess you'll live.'

That caused another round of chuckles, and a faint blush crept into Hermione's cheeks. His words had done the trick; she unfolded her arms, relaxed, and even began a conversation with Ernie and Morag while he finished his lunch.

Daphne put her hand on his thigh. 'Did everything go well with Percy this morning?' she asked under the cover of the cheerful chatter of their friends.

Harry nodded and swallowed the bite in his mouth. 'I have a lot to tell you, though not here,' he said in an equally low voice.

'Yes, of course.' She gave his thigh a small squeeze and pulled her hand back.

Harry took his time to eat his lunch. Satiated at last, he put down the cutlery and dabbed his mouth.

Even though still in her conversation with Ernie and Morag, Hermione must've watched him from the corner of her eye all the time, for she now turned her head towards him that abruptly he thought he heard the joints snapping, and opened her mouth.

Harry held up his hand, palm out. 'Not here and now, Hermione. You know the entertainment for the firsties up to third year is going to start in about an hour, and we still have to prepare for the games. You all are welcome to our apartment tonight after dinner, and I'll tell you, but I'm not inclined to make a public announcement.' The latter part was addressed to their whole group of friends, and he finished his little speech with a meaningful side glance at the many strained ears in their vicinity.

Hermione startled, her face blank for a split second, then bit her lips and lowered her head.

Ron leaned towards her and said something to her in a low voice.

She again bit her lips, nodded, turned her head to Harry and gave him a nod and a weak smile.

'Let's get going,' Ernie said, and they all got up and walked out of the Great Hall.

Daphne slid her hand into Harry's. Her eyes flickered towards Hermione. 'She still has a long way to go accepting you're no longer going to tell her everything first and as soon as she demands it, but at least she's trying when her nose is pushed into it like the nose of a puppy that's being housetrained.'

Harry laughed at that. 'Yeah; she's also not used to me sharing my secrets with someone beside Ron and her. She took it surprisingly well she's going to be informed with the rest of our friends.'

They met with the prefects on the lawn in front of the castle and divided up into teams. Each team was responsible for setting up a couple of games.

The younger students had spent a lot of thought on the games they wanted to play that afternoon, and had come up with an amazing range of magical and non-magical outdoor games, so even the firsties, who couldn't do much more than light their wands at this point of their education, could participate. They had spent even more time with the preparations for the games. During the last two weeks, almost all of the younger students had stayed in the Great Hall after dinner and crafted the supplies that were needed for playing the games.

It now was the job of the prefects and the headboy and headgirl to set up the games and make sure the youngsters wouldn't come to harm while playing, and break up possible fights.

Harry, together with Ron, Ernie and Anthony Goldstein, had to set up all the games that involved flying on a broomstick. They had already set up a racing circuit in one half of the Quidditch stadium, and were working on an obstacle course next, with different levels for the beginners and the more experienced flyers.

There was a long, narrow stretch of the stadium left unused when they were finished. A sudden idea hit Harry. He conjured two small rings, about three inches in diameter, and had them suspended in the air in the middle of the narrow stretch. Next he conjured two slim, long poles, slim enough to pass through the rings, and put them at one end of the narrow stretch. He regarded his work with furrowed eyebrows, raised his wand again, and separated the narrow stretch lengthwise into two tracks by conjuring a low railing.

'What's that?' Ron asked.

Ernie and Anthony also sent him curious glances.

'It's a Muggle game that's done on horses,' Harry said. 'Two riders take a pole each and ride towards the rings as fast as they can. They'll have to catch their ring with the end of the pole. The rider who catches the ring first wins. It's a lot more difficult than it sounds.'

'Wicked!' Ron grinned at him. 'What are you waiting for, mate?'

The next moment the two young men each grabbed for one of the school brooms Madam Hooch had provided for today's entertainment. Cheered on by Ernie and Anthony, they raced along the stadium towards the rings.

Harry caught his ring a split second sooner than Ron. Of course, Ron demanded a repeat. The next round went to Ron, and the third round ended with a draw.

Ernie and Anthony also wanted their turn, and Harry and Ron dismounted, albeit rather reluctantly.

The four young men alternated the brooms among them. Harry was just competing against Anthony when Daphne came into the Quidditch stadium.

She stopped at the entrance and stemmed her hands on her hips. 'Is that what you call working?' The corners of her mouth twitched.

'Oops, busted,' Harry said.

Followed by the laughter of his friends, he flew towards his wife, dismounted, and held his broom out to her with big puppy-dog eyes. 'Have a go, love; it's great fun.'

'That I believe,' Daphne said with a shake of her head. 'However, I don't have time for that. I was just about to call you to a final meeting on the front lawn. Sorry to disturb your playtime, boys.'

Harry grinned. 'Harridan.'

That got him a light slap on his arm. 'Prat!'

He put his arm around Daphne's shoulders and kissed her cheek. 'You just can't help yourself abusing me, can you?'

Daphne spluttered, and Ron, Ernie and Anthony burst out laughing.

Together, they ambled back to the front lawn. Daphne held a last orientation speech, and then they waited the last few minutes for the younger students to appear.

Dead on three o'clock the entrance door burst open, and a horde of excited youngsters stormed onto the grounds. Harry and his friends returned to the Quidditch stadium to await the onrush. Sure enough, they soon had their hands full. Group after group of students found their way to the stadium.

Almost each group consisted of students of different houses; there seemed to be no house borders anymore among the younger years. The only distinction between Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Slytherins was the colour of the trimming of their robes.

A broad smile appeared on Harry's face as he watched Cassie and her mixed group of friends from all four houses race each other on the obstacle course for beginners. Who would've thought Daphne and his ideas of bringing the houses together bore fruit that soon? Merlin give this generation was smarter than the generation of their fathers and grandfathers.

The four young men all breathed a deep sigh when the Bell Tower chimed five, the sign for the end of the fun. They had to give countless promises to repeat that afternoon soon before the younger students finally left the stadium. The young men made quick work of taking down the obstacles, shrinking everything, and putting it in a bag they stored in the broom shed for further use.

Harry walked back to the front lawn in search for his wife.

Daphne stood on the front lawn, together with Tori. Tori's shoulders were slumped, and she had her arms wrapped around herself as if in a hug. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot.

Harry startled. Had she cried? He looked at his wife and opened his mouth. What was going on here?

Daphne gave him an imperceptible shake of her head, and he closed his mouth. He'd find out what was going on soon enough; Daphne would tell him, she probably had a good reason to stop him from asking questions right now.

Tori turned to Daphne, gave her a hug, mumbled something about a Transfiguration homework due on Monday, and walked towards the entrance of the castle with a small wave at Harry.

Daphne watched her leaving; even though the corners of her mouth twitched, her eyes were concerned.

As soon as Tori was out of hearing distance, Harry asked, 'What's the matter with Tori? She looks a if she's been crying. Is there something I can do?'

His wife slid an arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. 'You're sweet. There's nothing you can do, I'm afraid; there's trouble in paradise. Gideon didn't turn up for their prefect's round last night, and she had to go with Pansy. Seems Tori and Gideon had a date in a broom closet scheduled after their rounds, some celebration of their two-month-anniversary, I think. Whatever, he didn't turn up, and now she's furious at him. Maybe she'll break up with him about this.'

'What a git.' He shook his head, though he couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. 'Don't look so smug, love. I know you are upset about them being together, but it's not nice to be happy about their spat. You know that something like this is big when you're sixteen.'

Daphne sighed. 'I'm not gloating, and I never was upset about them being together, either. "Concerned" is the more accurate word, since I know how mother and especially father will react when they get wind of this. You bet father's already made plans for Tori that don't include Gideon, even more so since we thwarted his little business deal with Nott.' She rose on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

'A breakup at this point would be the easiest way to prevent a possible disaster. However, I know Tori well enough to be sure this isn't just a fling. I figure you're wizard enough to put father into his place if Gideon proposes and father tries his funny business with them.'

'Thanks for your vote of confidence … I think,' Harry said. 'Though, right now it doesn't look as if my intimidation skills will ever be put to the test.' He pulled his wife with him to the entrance door. 'Come on, you look like you need a shower.'

Daphne had been in charge of "Find the Beans", a game where the students had to find three Bertie Bott Beans in a mountain of whipped cream on a plate on a table in front of them - with their hands tied to their backs. It had been a lot of fun and a huge mess, and Daphne's robes hadn't got away unscathed.

She disappeared into the bathroom as soon as they had walked into their apartment. Harry slumped down on the sofa, where he soon was joined by Lizzie. The Kneazle had grown quite a bit since it had become a member of their small family and was promising to become a striking Kneazle-lady. No wonder Crookshanks always found his way into their apartment.

Harry grinned, fondled the contentedly purring Kneazle behind the ears, and leaned his head on the backrest. Ah, quiet at last!

While he waited for his wife, he let his thoughts float. There'd been an important bit during his conversation with Daphne, he just couldn't put his finger on it anymore. He shook his head; it was of no use to rack his brain, if it was as important as he thought, he'd remember it sooner or later.

His time of relaxation ended when Daphne came out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a soft sweater. 'Do you want to have dinner in the Great Hall tonight?'

He shook his head. 'I'd rather not. I'm not keen on all the noise there, and Hermione watching me with eagle eyes if I've finally finished my dinner so she gets her answers.'

Daphne laughed at that. 'Suits me fine.' She called Breezy and asked her to prepare a light dinner.

Half an hour later, Breezy called them into the kitchen. They enjoyed a leisurely meal, and were just about to get up and return into the living room when a knock on the door announced the arrival of their friends.

Of course, Hermione and Ron were the first, accompanied by Neville. Hermione and Neville had not yet been in their apartment and looked around curiously when Harry ushered them into the living room.

The other two married couples arrived soon after them.

'Alright, what was that all about?' Terry plopped into an armchair and pulled Lisa on his lap. He cast Hermione a broad grin. 'You're not the only one who's curious, you know.'

Everyone laughed at that. All seats in the small living room were taken; Hermione sat in the second armchair, and Ron, Neville and Morag occupied the sofa, with Ernie sitting on the armrest next to his wife.

Harry conjured a loveseat and pulled Daphne next to him, asked Breezy to bring them Butterbeers, and ignored Hermione's accusing stare when the elf entered the living room with her arms full of bottles.

'Everyone have a drink?' he asked, and got a round of affirmative nods in return. He took a deep breath, and Daphne clasped her hand around his.

'Alright; it happened after I'd left the Gryffindor common room last night.' He launched into the tale about the attack and the Auror investigation that had followed, though he still didn't tell what kind of curse had been used on him.

It was bad enough without that; the further he got with his tale, the harder Daphne pressed his hand she was holding, and Morag, Lisa and Hermione became rather pale. The four other males, however, looked grim.

'First that attack on your wedding ball, and now this,' Neville said. 'I doubt it's a coincidence.'

Ron, Terry and Ernie nodded to that. 'Any idea who is behind that?' Terry asked.

Harry shared a look with his wife.

'You ought to tell them about our suspicions, love. I'd feel a lot better if our friends also watched your back; you're way too cocky sometimes.' She gave him a kiss on his cheek to take the sting out of her words.

Harry rolled his eyes at her, but relented. For the next couple of minutes he explained their suspicion against Nott, and the pitiful little evidence they had.

Ron listened to his story, bent forward in his seat, his forearms on his thighs, and his eyes not once wavering from Harry's face. When Harry finished, he straightened and gave him a meaningful stare. 'Seems you need to draw him out to get rid of the problem, mate.'

Daphne gave a violent start, and so did Hermione.

'You can't be serious, Ron. That's dangerous.' Hermione said.

Daphne kept quiet, though she pressed Harry's hand even harder.

The others, however, looked as if they agreed with Ron's assessment of the situation.

'Head Auror Robards also suggested something along that line when I talked to him yesterday,' Harry said in a soft voice.

Daphne gave another violent start. She jolted upright, jerked her head around and glared at him. 'You didn't tell me about that yesterday, Harry.'

Harry's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Damned, he'd forgotten he'd left out that tidbit for Daphne's sake when he told her about the discussion he'd had with Robards. 'You mean this morning,' he said in a dry tone. 'Sorry, love, I simply forgot about it.'

It sounded lame, even in his own ears, and the hard stare she gave him in return indicated that this topic was not yet resolved.

She leaned back in her seat. 'Excuse me that I'm not advocating making my husband a goat on the leash. I put a lot of effort into him, and I'd hate to be forced to look for a new one.'

Her sarcasm earned her a round of chuckles.

Ron gave her a warm look. 'I didn't say that I liked it, Daphne. What else do you suggest?'

'Get rid of Nott, of course.'

Their friends gasped.

'That's vigilantism,' Hermione cried.

Daphne rolled her eyes. 'I didn't suggest to kill him, Hermione. I think he needs to be moved out of Harry's vicinity. I don't think it's Harry's job to bring Nott to justice. This isn't Voldemort all over again.'

Harry bent towards her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'That's what I told Robards when he brought up the idea.'

She let out a sigh and relaxed beside him. 'Seems you've grown some brains lately, Potter.'

That caused their friends to chuckle.

'I agree with your assessment that we have to get rid of him, however, how we're going to do that I have no idea. If something comes up that will draw him out while we're at it, the better, or what do you think?' Harry looked at his wife with a cocked eyebrow.

She made a face at that, and mumbled something that sounded like "Gryffindork", but nodded nevertheless. 'I know Nott, he was my housemate for longer than I care to admit. He's a quieter version of Malfoy: full of himself and thinking he's entitled to the best just because he's a Pureblood, and full of contempt for everyone he thinks below him. While I'm not sure if he's taken the Dark Mark, he at least supported Voldemort's ideas. He hasn't changed since the war is over, so much I gathered during the Welcoming Feast. I'd say it's just a matter of time until he slips and gives Headmistress McGonagall a reason to expel him.'

'You'd want to carry certain items your father left you with you all the time from now on, mate,' Ron said. 'Maybe you'll catch him doing something.'

The Macmillans and the Boots perked up their ears, yet respected his privacy and left it at that.

Harry nodded. 'I've already thought of that myself.' He let out a mirthless laugh. 'That's like sixth year all over again, isn't it? Albeit with the main difference that this time you don't brush my suspicion aside with a wave of your hand.'

Ron and Hermione had the decency to look contrite.

'Harry supposed right from the beginning of the school year that Malfoy was up to something,' Daphne said for the benefit of the Macmillans and the Boots.

Lisa gasped. 'You did? Well, you were right on spot with that. Wasn't it Malfoy who let the Death Eaters into the castle?'

'Yeah, and maybe it could've been prevented, had Harry had some support.' Daphne shot a glare at Ron and Hermione.

Ron raised his hands in surrender. 'Don't bite me, Daphne; guilty as charged. At least I've learned from past mistakes and know by now that Harry's gut feeling is pretty good.'

'Good for you,' Daphne said with a small, annoyed snort and snuggled against Harry.

Ron winked at Harry. 'That's a fiercely loyal and protective one you got yourself.'

Harry put his arm around Daphne's shoulders and pulled her close. 'I told you she could've been in Hufflepuff.'

'Hey, I'm right here, you know.' Daphne interrupted their exchange over her head and poked her elbow in Harry's side. 'I'll give you Hufflepuff!'

Everyone broke out into laughter at that, except Hermione. She'd listened to Daphne's explanation of the events of sixth year with a shake of her head and rubbing one eyebrow with a finger. Now her lips were pressed in a hard line, and she had her head averted, while her hands fidgeted in her lap.

Harry suppressed a sigh. Even though Hermione had agreed to keep the peace with Daphne, she was still a far cry from trusting her. It was obvious she didn't like it at all that he'd told his wife about what had happened to him during the last seven years. Was it because of the ingrained distrust Gryffindors had towards Slytherins? Or was Daphne right, did Hermione still harbour feelings for him, and her behaviour was to be blamed on jealousy?

His face grew warm, and his chin dropped to his chest. There was no denying, he'd behaved like an arsehole towards Hermione. He'd exploited her moment of weakness for his own, short-lived distraction from the hell he'd been in. Yeah, he had fought a war, and the stress had been overwhelming. Yet, that wasn't an excuse for treating the only friend who'd always stuck by his side like a doormat.

There was no way around it; he needed to talk to her about what had happened between them after their visit in Godric's Hollow, or it would fester like a scratch that hadn't been paid attention to and destroy their friendship in the end.

Aloud, he said, 'I've been away all morning long. Will you fill me in what happened here at Hogwarts? All I know is that the Aurors planned on interviewing the students.'

'Well, that's what they did,' Ernie said, and straightened on the armrest beside his wife. 'Actually, they already started with that in the middle of the night. We, the Boots and the Notts were roused from our sleep about four.'

At that, a low grumble came from Terry. 'You can imagine we weren't happy about that, especially since they took a blood sample from us before they even asked the first question. I think we had to wait at least three hours until the actual questioning started.'

'It was the same in Gryffindor tower,' Ron said.

'They'd wake up the adult students first and take the blood sample. I think they didn't start with the minor students before breakfast time, and then included everyone down to fourth year. I wonder about the blood sample, though.' Hermione added some details.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look.

Morag didn't miss their silent communication. 'You know something.'

Harry nodded to that. 'Yeah, though I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you about it. It's part of an ongoing Auror investigation. Daphne and I were informed because we were the targets of the incident.'

'Then you'd better keep it to yourself,' Hermione said, although her tilted head and the slight gleam in her eyes told everyone that her insatiable curiosity was piqued yet another time. 'We wouldn't want the perpetrator getting away because of information leaking out.'

The others nodded to that. Soon after, the party broke off.

Harry closed the door behind the last of their friends and let out a deep breath. It had been a long and exhausting day after a short night. All he wanted right now was to fall into his bed, cuddle up to Daphne, and sleep until noon tomorrow.

His wife, however, had other plans. She waited for him on the sofa in their living room, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and a deep frown on her face.

He stopped in his tracks. 'Uh oh, what have I done?'

The frown vanished from her face, and she bit on her lips, as if to prevent herself from laughing. She unfolded her arms and patted with one hand on the seat beside her. 'Come here, love, we have to talk. It's not so much about what you've done, but about what you haven't done.'

'You're talking in riddles, Daph,' he said, and sat down next to her.

She turned around and grabbed his hand. 'Harry, why didn't you tell me about Robards asking you to draw out Nott? Don't give me that dragon dung about not thinking of it; by now I know you well enough to be sure you hardly thought of anything else the whole time you were talking to me last night, mister.' The frown reappeared while she talked, and there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Harry's stomach lurched. He avoided her gaze and rubbed the back of his neck; how could he have forgotten about the look Daphne had cast him when he mentioned Robards' idea? He should've know he'd be in for it as soon as they were alone.

His reaction gave him away. 'You know what I'm talking about, Harry.'

'Yes, I do,' he said in a low voice. 'I'm sorry, love. You were so agitated last night that I didn't want to scare you even more.' He didn't dare looking at her, he didn't want to see the fury and disgust in those beautiful eyes that usually looked at him with warmth and deep affection. She had every right to be furious, if it wasn't for him, she never would've been dragged into this Harry-Potter-kind of trouble.

Daphne's hand tilted up his chin and forced him to look at her. There was no trace of fury or disgust in her eyes; instead, there was a bitter smile around her lips, and her eyes had a suspicious shine. 'I thought you trusted me,' she said in a very quiet voice.

He jumped; how could she have taken his omission that wrong? His hands shot out and grabbed her by the shoulders. 'No, no, love, it's not like that. I do trust you; there's no one in this world I'd trust that much, not even Ron and Hermione. It's just -.' He interrupted himself and bit his lips.

Her face lit up at his words, and she took a deep breath. 'It's what, love?'

His heart hammered in his chest, and the palms of his hands became sweaty. He bit his lips; why in the world had she to be that insistent? In some regards she was worse than Hermione, albeit she wasn't as outspoken and direct in her approach.

Daphne's eyes never left his face while she waited for his answer.

He took a laboured breath. 'You know I'm pants at this soul-searching stuff, Daphne.'

'Just take your time, I won't go anywhere.'

Harry glanced at her. Was there a slight trace of amusement in her voice?

She looked back at him; a small smile played around her lips, and her eyes were full of understanding.

He tightened the grip of his hands on her shoulders and took a laboured breath. 'I told you on the night of our wedding ball that I'm not easy to be around. There's all that garbage I carry around with me, and there's also that load of dragon dung that comes with being the Boy-Who-Lived and now The-Vanquisher-of-Evil or whatever they call me these days. I'm a target because of that, love, a target for gossip and a target for those who resent that my killing of Voldemort put an end to the reign of glory to Pureblood supremacy.'

He took another deep breath; his breathing seemed lighter, as if his decision to open himself to her had moved a load from his chest. 'You've already got a good taste of the gossip angle, Daph; that was harmless, compared to what Skeeter and the public did during the Triwizard Tournament, still, I couldn't help but notice what it did to you.'

She frowned and opened her mouth.

'No, don't deny it, love, it got to you, more than you let on, even though you did your best to hide it from me.' He bent forward and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. 'Then there was that attack on you; you were used as a hostage to get at me. You were almost catatonic with shock afterwards. I admit you took yesterday's attack much better, nevertheless it also scared you out of your mind; I saw the tear tracks on your face when I came back, you know.'

Harry bit his lips and lowered his gaze. 'I was worried for you, love. I didn't want to burden you more. Besides that -.'

He paused. How was he supposed to put into words what he didn't understand?

Once again, Daphne tilted up his chin with her hand and forced him to look at her. 'What else are you afraid of, love?' She leaned into him, her face seemed to shine from within, and there was an odd, little smile around her mouth.

'I'm afraid you'll leave me.'

Her face fell, and she pulled away from him. 'Be assured I won't do anything to endanger your magic, Harry.'

A jolt went through Harry, and he gaped at her. Merlin, was he talking Parselmouth that Daphne kept on misunderstanding him? He tightened his grip on her shoulders and pulled her back to him. 'Screw my magic, Daph, I don't care about it. I care about you, do you understand? I'm afraid being with me will become too much for you, and that you'll decide you're safer without me, even if it means losing your magic, than being with me. My life wouldn't be worth much without you, love.'

Daphne's breath caught, and her eyes beamed at him like two sapphire stars. 'Oh Harry, you sweet idiot.' The next moment she leaned forward and kissed him with a tenderness that reduced him to a trembling mass of jelly in her arms.

A long time later she raised her head, the light that made his heart swell still in her eyes. 'I'll never leave you, Harry, no matter what else will happen.'

If his heart grew any bigger, his chest was going to burst. A broad smile spread over his face. 'I'll never leave you, if I can help it. I promise to be careful.'

Her face sobered at that, and she pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear with a finger. 'There's a chance you won't be successful always, Harry. Look, I know I have problems dealing with stress, and I have even bigger problems admitting when that's the case, because I hate admitting to a weakness and making myself vulnerable.' She let out an pent-up breath. 'You have no idea what that just cost me.'

Harry cupped her face with the palm of his hand. 'I think I do, love,' he said with a small laugh. 'That's something we have in common.'

Daphne nuzzled her face into the palm of his hand and gave him a small kiss. 'Well, then you know what I'm talking about. However, no matter how much I'm stressed by whatever will happen next, Harry, I want you to be honest and open with me. Not knowing everything and fretting about what you might have hidden from me in order to protect me is even worse than dealing with the whole truth.'

She took a deep breath. 'I won't deny I'll probably freak out more than once, cry, and have a meltdown. In spite of that, I promise to hold it together until the worst is over, do everything in my might to help you, and keep my tears to myself. Ever since you told me about Cho I know how much you despise crying women.'

'There's no need for that, love.' Harry put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. 'I think I grew up since then; just like you want me to be open with you I want you to be open with me as well. Don't hide your fears from me, ever. We'll deal with whatever will come together.'

Daphne snuggled against his chest. 'Together,' she said in a dreamy voice. 'I'd like that.'

* * *

Harry got his wish fulfilled; the next morning they slept almost until noon.

'What do you think about scarpering for today? I guess after all that drama we both could need a day away from this madhouse,' he asked his wife while they enjoyed some cuddle time, still in bed.

Daphne gave him an impish grin. 'That sounds lovely. You know how to treat a woman, Mr Potter.'

He laughed at that and pulled her duvet away. 'I don't know about women in general; I'm still learning how to deal with you. Get up, lazybones.'

She gave him a cute pout, nevertheless swung her legs out of bed and sauntered towards the bathroom.

About thirty minutes later they sat across each other at the table of the breakfast nook of the house on Eaton Square, each a mug of tea in front of them. Abby bustled in the kitchen; the tantalising smell coming from there indicated how happy she was to prepare a meal for her master and mistress.

The elf clicked her fingers; two plates levitated through the room and descended in front of them.

Daphne sniffed in the delicious fragrance. 'Mmmh, Eggs Benedict.'

They didn't talk much while they enjoyed their eggs, followed by banoffee waffles with vanilla ice cream, and lingered over another mug of tea when they were finished. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the breakfast nook they had a lovely sight onto the overgrown garden. The leaves of the bushes, still wet from a short shower of rain and just about to change their colour, gleamed in the September sun.

'We ought to do something about the garden, it's rather overgrown,' Daphne said.

Harry gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders. 'I don't know, I like it that way; it's very private as it is.'

'Let's see if you'll still think like that next summer, when the shrubbery will have grown that much that it's impossible to get around the table on the patio.' Daphne laughed and took another sip of her tea.

He joined her laughter. 'Probably not. Though, we won't be here, we'll be at _The Hideaway_ in summer.'

'True.'

They fell into a companionable silence. At length, Harry put the mug back onto the table and cast a glance at his wife.

'Daphne?'

'Uh-huh?' She still looked out of the window into the garden, a smile on her face, her elbows on the table, and her hands cradled around the mug in front of her. She looked relaxed and happy, an expression she hardly ever wore when they were at Hogwarts.

Merlin, how he hated to destroy her mood. 'There's something I still have to tell you.'

She stiffened; the smile vanished from her face, and she turned her face towards him. 'I thought as much. Well, I can't complain you didn't come clean yesterday, I didn't leave you the time for that, did I?'

His cheeks grew warm at the memory of the kisses they had shared after their talk, soft and tender at first, but then with mounting passion. Eventually, they had moved to their bedroom for reasons of comfortableness, and some even more interesting activities had followed. He pushed the memories aside and threw himself headlong into the tale about the crime scene investigation and the explanation of the nature of the curse that had been cast at him.

Daphne's face took on a sickly, green tinge while he talked. 'Oh, sweet Morgana, have mercy,' she whispered when he ended. Her chair gave a loud, scratching noise on the tiles of the kitchen floor when she got up and pushed it back in one forceful move. The next moment she flung herself at him and pressed him towards herself as if she never wanted to let him go.

He pulled her on his lap, held her close, and rocked her in his arms until her first shock had subsided.

She pulled back, her arms still around his neck, and looked at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. 'There's more, isn't it?'

Harry nodded at that. 'I made my will. What you told me the other day when we were talking about what will happen to you if Nott manages to get me had me thinking. I don't want you to be dependent on someone, love, especially not on your father who'd use you as a means for his own ends, and will most likely try to force you in a contract with Nott the first chance he gets. I want you to be independent, so I took the steps for your full emancipation the moment … I'm no more. That also includes the guardianship of our children, if we happen to have any. You'll inherit half of my estate beside my heir, and you'll be my sole heir if I'll die without children of my own.'

'You made what?' Daphne gaped at him; the sickly green pallor had given place to two crimson spots that burned on her cheekbones. The next moment, her eyes spilled over. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and her hot tears ran into the collar of his sweater.

Once again, Harry rocked his wife in his arms until her shock subsided.

It took Daphne some time to calm down. When she raised her head, her face blotchy and still wet from tears, Harry almost recoiled at the fire in her eyes.

'Just for the record, Potter,' she said and poked him in the chest. 'I'm going to be royally pissed at you if you'll snuff it because of the machinations of Nott or someone else of his ilk. You'd better make sure to stay ahead of the pack, and take the time to make me the half a dozen or so brats you're dreaming of. I promise I won't complain about two or three more or less.'

His mouth hung open, he stared at her. 'You won't _what?'_

'I said I won't complain -'

'It's alright, I got you the first time.' Harry cut her off. 'I just wanted to make sure my ears didn't deceive me.' The corners of his mouth twitched, and the next moment he broke out into laughter. 'Really, Mrs Potter, how indelicate. Your mother would have a fit if she knew.'

She gave him a mock-glare and stuck her nose into the air. 'I only wanted to get my point across.'

'Oh, that you did.' Harry kissed her cheek. 'I promise not to let myself get killed by Nott or the likes of him, if I can help it. If there's anything else I can do to help you to the half a dozen or so brats you mentioned, let me know.'

'Prat!' Daphne gave him a light slap on the arm.

'Abusive woman.' He stood up, lowered her to the ground and gave her a peck on the nose. 'Enough of these morose thoughts. Let's do something fun. What about a visit with Teddy and Andromeda?'

* * *

They spent the afternoon visiting with Teddy and Andromeda. Daphne relaxed visibly the moment she took Teddy in her arms and the colour of the baby's hair changed until it matched hers. Instead of returning to Hogwarts, they had dinner at an Italian restaurant near their house and spent the night in the house on Eaton Square, much to Reggie's and Abby's delight.

They returned to Hogwarts after breakfast on Monday morning, as relaxed and recovered from the shock on Friday night as possible. None of their friends mentioned their absence, not even Hermione. They all realised they had needed a break.

Much to Harry's relief, the week passed without any more incidents. The talk about the Auror investigation faded away, surpassed by the newest Hogwarts scandals, among them Romilda Vane being caught in a broom closet with a third year, both in a shocking state of undress and rather occupied.

'He was a precocious one,' Hermione, who had had the misfortune to be on prefect's patrol the previous night, told them at lunch in a prim voice.

'Yeah, but what about my eyes?' Ron asked. He had done the rounds with her. 'They still hurt.'

Harry and Daphne joined the laughter of their friends, thankful for the normality.

On Wednesday, Harry had to attend to his first Wizengamot session. As it was custom, Daphne came with him to watch his inauguration from the tiers reserved for the wives of the members of the Wizengamot, dressed in her most resplendent robes. The debate about the upcoming household was long and tiresome, and they returned to the castle way after midnight, dead on their feet.

As a result, they almost overslept the next morning and made it to Potions just in time. Each of them had to prevent the other once from making a mistake that would have led to an exploding cauldron, and they breathed a mutual sigh of relief when the double period was finally over. The sample they had given Professor Slughorn was not of the high quality he'd come to expect from them, but at least they'd managed to escape detention.

That was something neither Harry nor Daphne could afford right now. Due to their absence on Wednesday, their homework was piling up.

An article in the _Daily Prophet_ about Daphne's appearance at Harry's inauguration as "the Chosen One's so called wife", and the whispers that followed them because of that all day long didn't improve their mood.

Thursday afternoon was spent working on the Charms essay that was due on Friday. Of course they could have asked Professor Flitwick for a prolongation which he would have given them, however, Harry as well as Daphne were determined to avoid anything that might have the smell of favouritism. So, they buckled down, and called it an early night on Thursday as soon as the weekly prefect's meeting was over, to catch up on sleep.

Friday passed in a similar way. The Transfiguration essay turned out to be exceptionally difficult, and they still had their homework in Potions, Charms and Defence looming ahead of them when they sat down for dinner with their friends in the Great Hall on Friday evening.

'I've scheduled Quidditch tryouts for tomorrow morning at eight. Want to give me a hand, mate? I've thought about your idea to look out for your replacement and could need your input,' Ron said across the table as soon as they had sat down.

Harry's face brightened while he ladled mashed potatoes on his plate. The last time he'd played Quidditch at Hogwarts was almost too long ago to remember. It would be great to be back with the team one last time. However, did he have the time for that? He still hadn't caught up with his homework after his day on the Wizengamot on Wednesday, and there was the dance for the upper classes on Saturday which Daphne and he had to attend to in their functions as headgirl and headboy… He put down the bowl of mashed potatoes and shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Ron, I still have so much -'

He was interrupted by Daphne's hand on his. 'Actually, I think that's a great idea. There's more than enough time for you to finish your homework over the weekend. All work and no play makes Harry a dull boy, you know.'

Ron's face had assumed a scowl when Harry started talking, and his earlobes had gone red. Now he dissolved into smiles. 'Too right, Daph.'

Terry leaned towards his wife. 'You would think Harry has enough opportunities to _play,_ ' he said in an exaggerated stage whisper. That got him a jab into the ribs from Lisa.

Neville, Morag and Ernie grinned, while Daphne's cheeks pinked.

Harry grabbed a roll from the basket in front of him and threw it at Terry. 'Behave yourself.'

'Good idea.' Daphne nodded. 'Behave, Terry, or I'll start deducting house points. I bet you'll have a great time explaining to Professor Flitwick how exactly you've lost them.'

'Ooops!' Terry's mouth dropped open, his eyebrows went up, and he ducked his head between his shoulders in a gesture of mock-horror.

Everyone broke out into laughter at that.

'Serves you right,' Lisa told her husband.

'Alright, Ron, count on me,' Harry said under the cover of the laughter of his friends.

Next to Ron, Hermione pursed her lips. 'You shouldn't neglect your homework, Harry. This is your N.E.W.T. year, after all.'

Her disapproval steeled his resolve. 'I'm not neglecting anything, Hermione, there's time enough over the weekend and during the next couple of weeks to get everything done, especially since the next faction meeting won't be before the middle of November.'

She huffed. 'Suit yourself.'

'I will,' Harry said with an inward shake of his head. Would Hermione ever give up trying to patronise him?

However, when his Alarm-Clock-Spell went off early on Saturday morning, and he disentangled himself from a very sleepy and very cuddly Daphne who snuggled close to him, as it was her habit, he wished he'd had the good sense to quit the team.

The feeling intensified when he stood next to Ron in the Quidditch stadium and the remaining members of their team arrived.

Ron had returned as keeper, of course, and so had Peaks and Coote as beaters. Demelza Roberts also had returned to the team as chaser, just like Ginny. She glared at Harry when she arrived on the pitch, turned her back on him and talked to Demelza.

Harry suppressed a sigh. That didn't bode well for Ginny's willingness to work in a team with him. Ron had his work cut out for him if she cultivated that attitude.

Even though Ron only had to replace one chaser, he insisted on building up a reserve team. 'Harry and I will be leaving soon, and Ginny and Demelza next year,' he said to his team. 'I want Gryffindor to be prepared for years to come.'

It made sense, and Harry wouldn't blame his friend for his foresight. On the downside, the tryouts lasted all morning long, and lunch had already begun when Harry hurried into the Great Hall, still in his Quidditch robes.

'How did it go?' Daphne asked as he sat down beside her and gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

'Splendidly,' Ron answered for him from the other side of the table. 'Slytherin won't know what had hit them for years to come.'

Daphne laughed at that, and a friendly banter between her and Ron about the future chances of the Slytherin Quidditch team against Gryffindor followed.

Harry listened only with half an ear. His eyes were on Ginny, who sat with Dean, Luna, Seamus, and Parvati further down at the Gryffindor table. It still remained to be seen if Ron's new team worked out as splendidly as he hoped. Ginny was something like a wild card right now. She'd stuck to Demelza throughout the tryouts, and the two girls had left it to the male members of the team to exchange their opinions about the performance of the hopefuls who had come to try out.

He frowned; that disinterest was so unlike Ginny, she had always lived and breathed Quidditch. Even worse, whenever he had made a comment, she'd sneered, leaned towards Demelza, and whispered something to her that led to giggles and sneers at him from both girls.

No, Ginny's behaviour didn't bode well for the unity of the team, and he didn't envy his best friend when the time came to reign in his little sister. He was familiar with the dynamics among the Weasley siblings, and so it was very likely Ginny would complain about Ron's "unfair treatment" of her to Mrs Weasley, which would open another can of worms.

Oh well, there was nothing he could do about that. He concentrated on his lunch, and he and Daphne left for their apartment as soon as he was finished. The afternoon was spent with his Defende homework, which was a breeze, and he even managed to jot down first outlines for the pending essays on Potions and Charms before it was time to get ready for the dance.

To the relief of the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s students the fourth and sixth years had volunteered to prepare the dances. They had decided on a Muggle dance club style theme for this month, or what wizards and witches thought a Muggle dance club to be like, and Daphne had chosen the red dress she'd worn to Morag and Ernie's party for tonight.

'You look absolutely stunning,' Harry said to his wife when she emerged from the bathroom.

'Thank you, love.' She giggled and leaned back to evade his lips that already feasted on her neck and bare shoulders. 'What is it about this dress that makes you all handsy, Harry?'

'Must be the colour,' he said with a grin and straightened. 'Or maybe it's enchanted with a Compulsion Charm that makes me want to unwrap you out of it.'

She poked her elbow in his side. 'Curb down your lower instincts, we have to set a good example for the younger years.'

'I thought I did,' he muttered.

His wife shook her head at him. 'I heard that. Come on, you wannabe rogue, we have to be in the Great Hall in five minutes.'

Arm in arm they walked down to the Entrance Hall that was unusually quiet. Not a single noise could be heard from within the Great Hall.

Professor Flitwick had cast strong Silencing Charms on the doors that led from the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall. Even though Headmistress McGonagall had left the Muggle world about more than fifty years ago, she remembered that a Muggle dance club was first and foremost loud, so she'd asked the diminutive Charms professor to protect the rest of the school from the celebrating crowd of upperclassmen.

Harry opened the tall oak doors for his wife, and loud music blared into their faces.

For tonight, the Great Hall was set up similar to the _Barnabas the Barmy._ There was an already well attended dance floor with disco balls suspended in the air above, and strobe lights flashed in time with the music. The podium with the teacher's table had been turned into a DJ's booth, and Lee Jordan was in charge of the music.

Harry leaned towards Daphne. 'What's Lee doing here? I thought he worked for that club in Knockturn Alley?' He had to shout in her ear to be heard over the music.

'That's only one of the clubs he's working for; he's also working in a number of Muggle clubs, I've been told. He's got a younger cousin in fourth year, and when he heard what we're planning, he volunteered to be the DJ of the night,' Daphne shouted back.

They looked out for their friends. The house tables had been pushed to the sides of the room and transfigured into dozens of leather lounges in all four house colours, with matching low tables for drinks. Hundreds of candles, suspended in the air over the lounges, added a romantic touch.

Their friends had claimed a Slytherin green lounge for their group. Lisa and Terry, Morag and Ernie, and Ron and Hermione already had drinks in front of them and seemed to have a good time. Neville just made his way from the dance floor back to the lounge, hand in hand with a glowing Hannah. A few weeks ago Headmistress McGonagall had announced that the upperclassmen were allowed to invite their boyfriends respectively girlfriends already out of school to the dances.

Harry took Daphne by the hand, and they winded their way alongside the edge of the dancefloor to their friends. As soon as they sat down, butterbeers appeared on the low table in front of them.

'You've gotta love house elves, don't you?' Terry said when the greetings were over, and saluted them with his butterbeer.

Harry laughed and returned the gesture. By now he had practice ignoring Hermione's pursed lips and the frown on her face whenever house elves were mentioned, and he looked around for the rest of their classmates.

Dean and Luna had opted to join the Patil sisters, who once again had the two young Indian men by their sides who'd already been with them on Morag and Ernie's hen and stag night. The fourth couple in their lounge seemed to consist of a tangled mass of arms with groping hands attached, joined by the lips and topped by flaming red hair. The other three couples did their best to ignore them.

'Finnegan and Weasley? When did that happen?' Daphne asked.

Beside her, Ron shuddered. 'I have no idea. They are at it ever since we came here. My poor eyes; they'd just recovered from the sight of Vane and that third year twerp. I guess I'll have to Obliviate myself tonight, or I'll have nightmares.' He took a big gulp of his butterbeer for comfort.

Everyone broke out into laughter at that. Hermione, however, gave Ron a slight poke with her elbow. 'You're one to talk. You were at least twice as disgusting with Lavender in our fifth year.'

Ron spluttered and almost spilled butterbeer over his shirt.

That caused another round of laughter. 'Whatever,' Harry said and raised his butterbeer when the laughter had died down. 'I'd say good for Ginny and Seamus. Cheers!'

They all drank to that. Harry caught a side glance from his wife, and sent her a small smile. He didn't have to be a Legilimens to know her thoughts right now. In spite of how far they had come in their relationship in the three months of their marriage, Daphne still harboured traces of insecurity when it came to the girls who had played a role in his life before their hasty marriage, especially Hermione. He put an arm around his wife, pulled her towards him, and gave her a small kiss on the temple to show her there was no need for worries. He'd meant what he said; he was glad Ginny had moved on. Her new relationship hopefully would prevent her from throwing dark looks at Daphne any longer whenever she saw her.

He let his eyes wander across the celebrating crowd some more. Susan Bones was dancing with Justin Finch-Fletchley; they seemed rather familiar with each other. In a Gryffindor red lounge near them Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein were chatting up two fifth years in sequined dresses, with little success, as it seemed.

That left only one couple from their year missing.

Daphne seemed to have come to the same conclusion. 'I wonder where the Notts are.'

Harry pressed his lips together. Tonight would be a good opportunity to arrange another ambush; everyone of the upperclassmen was in the mood to celebrate, and nobody was paying attention to their surroundings.

'Excuse me,' he said to his wife and got up.

'I'm coming with you.'

The look in Daphne's eyes tolerated no objection, so he took her by the hand and led her towards the doors. On their way out, a beaming Tori waved at them from the dancefloor; she was dancing, rather closely, with Gideon, who also smiled and waved at them.

'Seems as if all's well again between Tori and Gideon.' Harry grinned down at Daphne as soon as the doors had closed behind them.

Daphne pushed a strand of hair out of her face. 'Yeah; I'm happy for her, but still …' her voice trailed off.

Harry squeezed her hand; there was no need for her to elaborate further; they'd talked about the Tori-Gideon-problem many times before without coming to a solution.

He pulled his wife to a small alcove in the Entrance Hall. 'Be a dear and cast a Notice Me Not Charm around us, love. I need to have a look at what Nott's doing, and I don't want anyone to notice.'

She complied, and he pulled the Mokeskin pouch out of his shirt and took the Marauder's Map out of the pouch. He unfolded the map and looked for Nott's name.

Daphne peeked over his shoulder. 'Neither Nott nor Pansy are in their apartment.'

'They aren't among the crowd in the Great Hall, either,' Harry said and looked up from the map. 'Where else can they be?'

They scanned the map once more, but couldn't find Nott or his contracted wife in one of the likely places, like the Slytherin dorms, visiting with friends, or the library or the infirmary.

'They must've left the castle for the weekend,' Daphne said and straightened. 'After all, we're doing it all the time, and it makes sense; they have kept to themselves ever since the school year started, and even have all their meals in their apartment. Why would they hang out at Hogwarts for the weekend?'

'You're probably right, love,' Harry said, deactivated the map and put it back into his mokeskin pouch. 'At least we now know that we don't have to worry about him tonight.' He took Daphne by the hand and pulled her back towards the Great Hall.

She smiled and snuggled against him.

Harry returned her smile, however, his stomach tied itself into an uncomfortable knot. Nott had left the castle, but for what purpose?

* * *

Sunday was spent with catching up on their homework and a short visit with Teddy and Andromeda. Harry still had to work on the mail from the goblins and the Muggle managers, and sat down in the small study area of their living room with a huge stack of letters after dinner. Daphne kept him company, Miss Elizabeth Bennet in her lap, and one of the historical novels he had picked out for her in that Muggle bookshop on Charing Cross Street in her hands.

He went back working on his correspondence when Daphne left for Arithmancy on Monday morning, and had everything finished when he met her and their friends for Transfiguration.

Hermione was eventually regaining her confidence and performed almost as perfect as in their sixth year, though she was not yet quite there. Harry exchanged a look with Daphne over the tea table they had to conjure, and let out a deep breath. One thing less to worry about.

On Tuesday, Justin Finch-Fletchley approached him after Herbology, a letter in his hand, while Harry and Daphne were still cleaning up their workspace. 'Harry, may I have a word?'

Harry's glance fell on the familiar-looking writing of the letter. 'Wow, that was fast. Percy estimated the Ministry would need at least two weeks for the registration work; he told me he'd send out the letter as soon as he had the confirmation.'

Justin waved the letter in his hand. 'It's not that I don't feel honoured, I really do. But why me, Harry? There surely are more prominent members of the magical population of this country you could've asked.'

Harry exchanged a look with his wife, pulled his wand out of his pocket, and cast a Privacy Charm around them. 'Well, there probably are, however, they wouldn't have suited the purpose of the foundation. It's all about Muggleborns, you know.'

Daphne stuffed her dragonhide gloves into her backpack, clicked it shut, and looked from Harry to Justin. 'Why don't you come with us to our apartment? We can have lunch together, and Harry will explain his goals to you.'

Justin nodded his agreement. They went to the apartment, and over sandwiches and vegetable soup Breezy had got them from the Hogwarts kitchen, together with some pumpkin juice, Harry explained his idea.

'The foundation is supposed to support Muggleborns. While I know that your parents most likely have no problems to pay the Hogwarts tuition and your school things - you were supposed to attend to Eton, after all - a lot of other families struggle. If you look at it from someone who earns British Pounds, the exchange rate to Galleons is pretty steep, and all the things you need to buy aren't exactly a bargain, either. For example I know that the parents of the Creevey brothers in my house both had to take on a second job to make ends meet, even though Colin and Denis paid a reduced tuition because of their family's low income.'

He took a sip of his pumpkin juice. 'I just want to make it easier on the families. I'm also going to propose that the foundation will pay Banishing Boxes for the families, so that they can stay in contact without having to use post owls and risk breaking the Statute of Secrecy in crowded Muggle areas.'

'That's a good idea,' Justin said. A grin spread over his face. 'M'parents found it hard enough to hide the owls I sent them whenever they were visiting with my grandparents on the family estate in the country. However, they got into real trouble when they stayed at our house in London.'

He laughed and shook his head at the memory so that his brown curls danced. 'Though, I still don't get it. Why me?'

Harry dabbed his mouth with his napkin and put it beside his plate. 'Well, two reasons. You're a Muggleborn, and I also had a look into your family's background. As the oldest son of the oldest son you're supposed to manage your family's rather substantial holdings one day, which means you already are or will be educated in business and management. That makes you the ideal candidate.'

'I see.' A slow smile appeared around Justin's mouth. 'In that case, I'll accept - and thank you, Harry, I'm honoured by your trust.'

Harry winked at him. 'Don't thank me too soon. Daphne will make you work, I'm sure. I think she was a slavemaster in a former life.'

'I resent that, Potter,' his wife said and gave him a slight pat on the arm.

'See what I mean?' Harry smirked and got up from his chair. He held out his hand to Justin. 'Welcome on board. Meet us here Saturday morning at twelve, and we'll travel together to Percy's office for the first meeting of the board of governors.'

* * *

Even though Ron scheduled three nights of Quidditch practise that week, and each professor gave them a mountain of homework, Harry wasn't fazed by that. His new-found work ethics paid off; he set to work on everything as soon as possible, so the homework never piled up as high and daunting as in his first six years at Hogwarts. Also, having Voldemort out of his system - quite literally - had done wonders for his concentration and memory.

Despite that, he sent a silent string of curses into Ron's direction when the Alarm-Clock-Spell went off at seven a second Saturday in a row. His teammates also didn't look happy about the early hour; most of them were still half asleep. At least it kept Ginny and Demelza from being difficult: they leaned against each other, their eyes closed, and seemed to take a nap while Ron drew moves onto a conjured chalkboard.

Harry had woken up when Ron finished the theory, and shooed them onto the pitch. Three hours later, it was meanwhile nearing lunch, Ron was still drilling them on chaser moves. Harry hovered on his broom high above the pitch; there had been very little to do for him except watching, Ron had not even released the practise Snitch. He looked on his wristwatch and suppressed a sigh. Daphne and he were supposed to meet Justin in twenty minutes for their appointment with Percy. There was no way he was going to be late for that.

He pointed the tip of his broom downwards and descended in a graceful arch to where Ron just was yelling at Demelza and Ginny. His head jerked around to Harry.

'What?'

His voice sounded irritable; he had a deep frown on his face, and his earlobes were beacon-red.

Harry couldn't blame him; Demelza and Ginny had performed far below their standard today. 'I need to go, Ron. I have an appointment in twenty minutes I can't miss.'

'What?' Ron took a deep breath, his face became crimson, and he looked like he was going to burst a vessel. 'We're not finished yet, Harry. You know how important -'

Harry held up his hand. 'Stop it, Ron; I told you Quidditch isn't top on my list this year, and that I most likely won't be able to spend as much time on training and playing as you'd like me to. We've been training for almost four hours right now, and you've not once involved me. Frankly, I've got better things to do right now.'

The alarming red didn't disappear from Ron's face. He shot Harry a deadly glare. 'Fine! But we'll be talking about your attitude.'

Harry shrugged, turned around his broom and raced back to the castle. He didn't bother taking the long way around to the entrance and walking up to their apartment. Instead, he flew straight to the window of their living room and cast a silent _Alohomora!_ at it.

Daphne sat at her desk, already dressed for their appointment with Percy in a smart pant suit. She almost jumped out of her skin when he burst into the room. Her hand flew to her chest. 'Harry!'

'Sorry, love; Ron couldn't find an end with practise.' He Banished his broom into a corner of the room with a silent wave of his hand and rushed into the bedroom to shrug out of his Quidditch gear and dress into something more appropriate for the first meeting of the board of governors of the new foundation.

Justin was on time; Harry made it out of their bedroom, now dressed in a Muggle business suit of finest wool with a matching tie, just when he knocked on their door.

Justin's eyebrows went up at Harry's unusual attire, though he refrained from a comment. He'd also chosen business dress code, and wore a smart Muggle suit with dress shirt and tie. Neither did he show a sign of surprise when Harry called Reggy and asked him to Apparate first Justin and Daphne, then himself to Percy's office.

Harry and Daphne introduced Justin and Percy to each other, and they sat down for business. The first point of their agenda was to appoint Percy as the manager of the foundation's day to day business, since neither of them had the time - or the education - for that while they still were at Hogwarts.

Then they talked about how to distribute the money. Justin's brows went up yet another time when he learned how much there was.

'I inherited the Black estate from my godfather, the alleged mass murderer Sirius Black,' Harry said. He couldn't help himself, there still was a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he talked about Sirius' unfair imprisonment. 'The Blacks, with exception of Sirius, his cousin Andromeda, and later his younger brother, were staunch Pureblood supremacist and supporters of Voldemort. I imagine they all are rotating in their graves right now that I, of all people, have become Head of House Black, and represent the family on the Wizengamot. Not only I've done in their idol, even worse, I'm a filthy Halfblood.' A broad grin spread over his face at his last words.

Daphne, Percy, and Justin sniggered.

'Well, to make a long story short,' Harry said and took Daphne's hand. 'Daphne and I don't need the money that came with the Black estate. We've decided using the money to help Muggleborns and try to fix some of the injustice they still have to suffer. I imagine Sirius, wherever he is now, is laughing his arse off about that.'

Headmistress McGonagall had provided them with a list of Muggleborn students at Hogwarts at present, and their parent's addresses in the Muggle world. They agreed on Percy getting into contact with the families and trying to find out which would need substantial financial help. The Banishing Boxes would be provided to each Muggle family; it was a service Gringotts only provided for valued customers. A Muggleborn student, new in the Wizarding world, would never qualify for that. Not even Justin, backed with the title and the money of a centuries old aristocratic family, was considered worthy. Harry, however, had the clout to be able to ask for it ever since his victory over Voldemort.

They concluded their meeting after that and went to have lunch together at the small café on Diagon Alley. The café was full to the brim with the Saturday lunch crowd of families shopping in the alley. As always, Harry and Daphne's appearance in public attracted a lot of attention. Many heads turned towards them, more or less discreet, and people stuck their heads together and whispered.

Percy and Justin, not used to that, squirmed in their seats.

'I'm sorry,' Harry said as soon as they'd ordered their drinks. 'That's what you'll have to expect if you're seen with Daphne and me in public. I wish I could say you'll get used to it, however, I'd be lying. Daphne and I are still learning how to cope with that.'

Daphne took his hand with a nod and squeezed it. 'I wouldn't be surprised, either, if Skeeter's going to turn up soon. Rumour says she's got her spies everywhere, so I suppose she'll be informed of our appearance here as we speak.'

Percy and Justin made a face at that, but gave in to the inevitable with a shrug of their shoulders. Daphne roped them into brainstorming about more ideas how the Tracey-Davis-Foundation might help Muggleborn wizards and witches, which distracted them quite efficiently. The arrival of the food did one last thing to distract them.

Yet, her words turned out to have been prophetic. They were not even halfway into their meal when Skeeter turned up, Bozo in tow. At the sight of Daphne at a table with three males her eyes lit up, and she turned towards Bozo and whispered into his ears.

The photographer gave a calculating look towards the four young people at the table, nodded, and positioned himself with his camera in his hand at an angle where he could get a good shot of Daphne with Justin next to her across the corner of the table, and Harry left out of the picture.

When he pressed the shutter release, Daphne leaned towards Harry. 'Bet there'll be an article in tomorrow's _Sunday Prophet_ that I'm cheating on you with a Muggle?'

Harry dabbed his mouth with his napkin, put his arm around Daphne, and gave her a small kiss. 'I don't bet against certainties, kitty.'

Percy laughed and put his sandwich back on his plate. 'I guess I'd better prepare the extension of your claim against Skeeter and the _Prophet_ in that case.'

'Good idea.' Harry nodded.

Justin, however, turned white. 'She won't!'

'Sorry, but she will,' Daphne said.

He let out a low groan. 'Suzie's going to kill me!'

Daphne put her hand on his. 'Don't worry, we'll talk to her as soon as we're back at Hogwarts.'

'Besides that, there's just the woman we need to advertise our point to the public,' Harry said, and waved at a small, pudgy woman with brown locks who had turned up behind Skeeter and Bozo. 'Mrs Herr, how are you? Would you like to join us?'

'Seems Skeeter's not the only reporter with spies,' Daphne muttered in a very low voice.

'I'd be delighted,' Trude Herr said. She brushed past Skeeter, who had turned crimson at Harry's words. ''scuse me, Rita, I have to make an interview.'

Skeeter shot her a death glare, yet had to admit defeat. With a sneer at Harry and Daphne, she tugged Bozo by the elbow and settled down with him at a nearby table.

Trude Herr sat down on the bench next to Harry, who had scooted closer to Daphne to make room for her. She glanced at the obnoxious, self-styled star reporter of the _Prophet_ and her sidekick. 'That's not yet over. Be prepared that Rita will follow you for the rest of the day, Mr Potter.'

'Oh, we know that,' Harry said with a wave of his hand. 'I trust Daphne will come up with something to cross her plans.' They laughed, and he introduced Trude Herr to Percy and Justin.

Trude looked at each of them. 'I think I'm right to assume this isn't just a lunch between friends, is that so? You all are dressed rather formal for that.'

Harry gave a small laugh. 'You nailed it, Mrs Herr. We've come here in celebration of the constitutive meeting of the Tracey-Davis-Foundation for Muggleborn Wizards and Witches.'

Mrs Herr's brows shot up at that, and Harry proceeded to tell her about the aims of the foundation, his reasons for choosing the board of governors and the manager, and, most important, the story of the witch who was the namesake of the foundation.

Daphne's eyes became moist when he told Tracey's story, and she leaned her head against Harry's shoulder. He turned his head and dropped a kiss into her hair.

Mrs Herr gave them a small smile. 'I think it's wonderful.' She then turned towards Percy and Justin and asked them a few questions about their personal background and their involvement into the new foundation. A little general talk with all four of them about what they were going to do first followed. Soon after that, Mrs Herr took her leave, albeit not without reminding Harry and Daphne that they had promised her an in-depth interview at Ernie and Morag's party.

'I guess we'll have to act on our words one day soon, especially since we promised Gordon and Kingsley to cooperate with her,' Daphne said when Mrs Herr was out of earshot.

Harry made a face, but nodded to her words.

'If you want my advice, wait until the hearing in your case against the _Prophet_ is over,' Percy said, and drained his Butterbeer. He looked around and cast a Privacy Charm. 'A little bird told me that many on the Wizengamot aren't happy with the role the _Prophet_ played in covering up V-Voldemort's return. Their current way of reporting shows they've learned nothing from past mistakes, and many on the Wizengamot want to set a warning example. In that case, Skeeter will be pretty pissed at you, Harry. You'd want to have something in the backhand to counteract that.'

'Good advice.' Harry grinned. 'Thanks, Percy. For everything. Daphne and I wouldn't have been able to pull all of this through without your advice.'

'I'm only doing my job,' Percy said, though he pinked a little.

They parted ways in front of the café. Percy returned to his office, and Justin had to be at Hogwarts for a date he had planned with Susan. Harry called Sunny to apparate him back, and they exchanged a one-armed hug and slaps on the back. However, Justin made a show to kiss Daphne on the cheek in goodbye, a picture that was of course captured by Skeeter and Bozo who had followed them back onto the alley.

Harry and Daphne exchanged an amused smile, then turned around and walked towards Gringotts arm in arm. Every so often they stopped to have a look at the windows of the shops they passed, and glanced back to see if Skeeter and Bozo still followed them.

They did; they still were on their heels when they entered Gringotts, and they waited for them when they had concluded their business with the Goblins about the Banishing Boxes more than an hour later.

'I never would've thought the Goblins will be that accommodating,' Daphne said and tucked her arm into Harry's.

He laughed. 'That's not what surprised me. I thought they'd be when I told them how much that would vex the Pureblood elite. No, what surprises me most is that you managed to wriggle a discount out of them. Well done, love.' He bent down and kissed her cheek.

Daphne pinked at his words and snuggled closer to him as they walked down Diagon Alley towards the _Leaky Cauldron._ She looked up to him. 'What are your plans for the remainder of the day? We have to be back to Hogwarts after dinner since we have patrol duty together today and tomorrow.'

Harry's scalp began to prickle at her words. He tugged at the lapel of his suit and gave his wife a side glance. She wouldn't like at all what he was going to tell her, so much was sure.

'Well, I thought about talking to Hermione about the provisions we made. It would be somewhat cold and awkward if she was going to receive a formal letter from Percy about that, like the others, don't you think so?'

She stiffened at his words and bit her lips, yet nodded. 'I agree; you're still best friends, in spite of what happened between you lately, and it would be callous to treat her like the other beneficiaries of the foundation.

He let out a breath. That had been easier than he'd expected. However, how would she take to what else he planned on doing? His stomach gave an uncomfortable quiver. 'I'd appreciate if you'll let Hermione and me have a private talk at the apartment. It's about time we clear the air between us in regards … to what happened while we were on the run. Hermione needs to know where I stand, and I need to know how she thinks about it, or it will always be the elephant in the room and destroy our friendship.'

Daphne came to a sudden halt, that sudden that the wizard behind them almost bumped into them, swore, and walked around them with a withering glare at them from under the brim of his high pointed hat.

Her cheeks had become pale. 'That … that was not what I expected.'

'I thought that much, love.' Harry cast a look over his shoulder.

Skeeter and Bozo were still following them. With the infallible instinct of a vulture for the location of a rotting carcass Skeeter sensed that something was going on between Daphne and him, going by the gleam in her eyes and the delighted smile on her face.

Damn that woman! 'Reggy!'

With a soft _Plop!_ their elf appeared next to them.

'Please, take us to the house on Eaton Square.'

Reggy took their arms, and the next second they stood in the bright library of the town house.

Harry took Daphne's hand, led her to the sofa, and pulled her to sit down with him. He put his arms around her. 'Look, I know you don't like that. Merlin, I don't like it myself and rather would not have this talk. However, don't you think I owe it to the long years of friendship between Hermione and me?'

Daphne pushed a strand of hair out of her face and bit her lips. Her eyes didn't meet his. 'Yes … Yes, I suppose so. However -'

He raised her chin with his fingers and forced her to look at him. 'You're still jealous of her.'

She turned red at that, and a dangerous sparkle appeared in her eyes. 'What if I am? You're going to talk to her, anyway, regardless how I feel about that. You _owe_ it to her, don't you?'

Harry gaped at his wife; he'd never seen her like this, this … unreasonable. As a rule, she went out of her way to make everything run smooth between them. Maybe too much so? Maybe it was now his turn to make sure things still went smoothly between them?

He pulled her into a hug. She stiffened in his embrace like an obstinate donkey, and he suppressed a sigh. That was just great. How was he supposed to come to terms with Hermione without getting into a fight with his wife when Daphne behaved like this?

He owed Hermione for keeping him alive during the war, even though Daphne didn't admit to that, and he owed Daphne for helping him finding an inner balance and calmness he'd never possessed in his life, not to mention she was the reason why his life was an ocean full of new discoveries and possibilities. He'd be devastated if he lost Hermione's friendship, yes, but he'd be desperate if he lost Daphne.

All of a sudden, he knew what he had to do. His heart hammered in his chest. It was so simple, wasn't it? Though it meant taking a huge leap of faith for him.

'Yes, I owe Hermione. However, I'm not going to talk to her regardless of your feelings, Daphne. You mean too much to me that I'd walk all over you like that.' Again, he took her chin into his hand and forced her to look at him. 'Hermione is my friend, but you are my wife. I … I love you, Daphne, and I'd never do anything to hurt you knowingly.'

He held his breath. How would she react?

Daphne gaped. Then a blinding light appeared in her eyes, and she beamed at him. 'Oh Harry!' She threw her arms around him and buried her head at his chest. 'I love you, too,' she stammered into the lapel of his suit.

An avalanche seemed to go off his heart. He'd hoped she would react like that, everything in the way she treated him had told him she loved him, and yet the small boy in the cupboard deep inside of him hadn't dared acting on this knowledge - he'd been rejected too many times to trust his own heart.

Warmth spread through his body, a smile he couldn't contain any longer broke its way on his face, and he pulled her into a tight embrace until she protested.

'You're crushing me, love.'

'Sorry.' He released his grip, and she looked up at him, the blinding light still in her eyes. His breath caught. Daphne was a beautiful woman, yet, in this moment her beauty was unearthly. The next moment, his lips were on hers.

That moment, he'd given up on everything she demanded of him, Hermione, Ron, his Firebolt … even Teddy, just to see that light in her eyes again, and to hear those three, precious words from her lips.

 _t.b.c._


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's notes:** This chapter is much shorter than the others. Since many of you complained about the long chapters, I guess you don't mind.

This chapter is dedicated to Brian. Thank you for your nice review, and I hope you'll get to read all of this story.

* * *

 **10**

At the sound of the knock on the door Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He plastered a smile on his face and opened the door.

'Good morning, Hermione. Please, come in.' He held the door open for her.

'Good morning, Harry.' An uneasy smile on her face, Hermione stepped into the apartment. 'You wanted to talk?'

'Yeah, but let's make ourselves comfortable first. This will take some time.' He ushered her into the living room and called for Breezy to bring them tea and biscuits.

Hermione acknowledged his hospitality with a slight frown, otherwise she kept silent until Breezy had served the tea and popped away. She took a sip of her tea and looked around in the small room. 'Won't Daphne join us?'

Harry put his cup back onto the saucer. 'She's visiting with Tori and won't be back soon.'

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at his words. 'She left you alone to meet with me? That's amazing, I thought she never lets you out of her sight.'

A wave of heat rushed through Harry's body, and he flattened his lips into a thin line. Would Hermione ever stop picking on Daphne?

'Daphne gives me all the space I need,' he said in a carefully controlled tone, and bent forward to pick up a biscuit from the platter Breezy had put onto the table, in a display of calmness he was far from feeling. 'It's just that I enjoy being with her, so you usually won't find me far from her.'

Hermione curled her lips in a faint sneer, despite that she refrained from another disparaging comment against Daphne. 'What is it you want to talk about?' she asked instead.

Harry took another fortifying sip of tea, put the cup back onto the coffee table, and pulled a small golden key out of the pocket of his robes. 'I promised to put up a stipend for you. Everything's settled; you are, among a few others, the recipient of a joint stipend from the Lily Potter Foundation for Gifted Witches and the Tracey Davis Foundation for Muggleborns. This is the key to your new vault at Gringotts.' He pushed the key across the table towards her.

Hermione's cheeks pinked. 'Harry! You shouldn't have! I told you -'

He held up his hands to forestall her further protests. 'Stop it, Hermione. You took care of me last year, let me take care of you now. Merlin knows I'll never be able to repay everything you've done for me. You've saved my life more than once.'

The pink on Hermione's face intensified, and there was a suspicious sheen in her eyes. 'I didn't do it for the reward, Harry.'

'This isn't a reward, Hermione. You are one of my oldest and closest friends, and I did it because it's plain to see you're in trouble. Let me help you, just like you helped me so many times.'

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She bent forward and picked up the key. 'It still feels weird, but… Thank you, Harry, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You're right, I'm in a tight spot, and this will help to get me through until I'll earn money on my own.'

Harry let out a small breath. The first part of his talk to Hermione went much smoother than he had thought it would. She was a proud and independent Gryffindor, so he had expected much more opposition to his offer, even though she already had agreed to accept his help on the day of the first prefects meeting, when he confronted her about her attitude towards Daphne.

He took another sip of his tea. Why didn't he have the foresight to add some Firewhisky as liquid luck for what he had to say next? Silence descended on the room while he racked his brain for the right words to address the Erumpet horn between Hermione and him, only disturbed by the soft ticking of the ornate clock on the mantlepiece of the fireplace, one of the forgotten treasures Daphne had unearthed from the Potter heirloom vault.

At the thought of his wife Harry's lips curled into a gentle smile. Daphne! She did everything in her might to brighten his life, he owed it to her to address the issues between him and Hermione and take away some of the tension that still poisoned the air among the three of them.

If only he wasn't such a coward when it came to talking about his feelings to a girl. Except Daphne, of course. She wasn't any girl, she was his wife and his partner, and sometimes she seemed to understand him better than he did. Facing Voldemort had been a breeze compared to the talk he would now have with Hermione, at least there'd never been the danger Tommy-boy would burst out into tears if he said something wrong. With an inward grimace, he put down the cup and took a deep breath. 'There's more we have to talk about, Hermione.'

She gave him a sideward glance over her teacup, her eyes guarded. 'Is there?'

Damn, she knew what was coming, and by the looks of it had no intention to make it easy on him. He drew another deep breath.

'I owe you an apology, Hermione, although Merlin knows measly words aren't enough to make up for the way I took advantage of you after the events on that Christmas we spent on the run. I behaved like a cad to you; I only thought of myself and tainted what should have been a cherished memory for you with my selfishness.'

The colour came and went on Hermione's cheeks as he talked. She gripped the armrests of her chair and evaded his gaze. Another silence descended on the room, this time an uncomfortable one.

Harry shifted in his seat. If only she would say something, rant at him, scream off her head at him… Anything would be better than this awkward silence. Had he destroyed their friendship forever by broaching that sensitive topic? The palms of his hands became moist at that thought.

At length, Hermione turned her head and gave him a long, level look. 'You know, you're not the only one to blame, Harry. Last time I looked into a biology book it still said it takes two for that kind of activity.'

A snort escaped his mouth, and Hermione replied to that with a faint smile.

'I took as much advantage of you as you took of me. I was lonesome and scared and needed someone to hold me and make me feel alive, and you were there. I'd say we're even. That it didn't turn out to be as magical as I'd always dreamt…' Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged her shoulders. 'Kismet, don't you agree?'

'First times always suck,' Harry said with a sigh, 'At least that's what I've heard. However, it should have been with someone you love.'

A faint blush crept into Hermione's cheeks, and she averted her eyes once again. 'Who said it wasn't?'

Her voice was so low Harry almost didn't understand the words. A jolt went through his body as the meaning trickled in. He jerked upright in his seat and gaped at her with wide eyes. Sweet Merlin, what had he done to her? The weight of the guilt on his shoulders doubled.

Hermione gave him a quivering smile. By now her face was as red as a tomato. 'There's no need to look at me with so much horrified guilt, Harry. I always knew you didn't feel the same for me when we… After all, you were still in love with Ginny back then, and now you're saddled with Daphne for the rest of your life, no matter that you don't love her, so it's pretty obvious that never anything more will happen between us. It's all right, I've accepted that ever since you told me about the nature of the wedding vows you exchanged with Daphne. I gave up on you that moment.'

His face probably matched hers, it was so hot. Yet his eyes met hers fair and square. 'I'm so sorry, Hermione, you deserved more than I was willing to give you. You're right, I wasn't in love with you when I slept with you. I'm sorry.'

'I've gathered that much,' Hermione said with a bitter smile. 'If only you hadn't exchanged these unfortunate vows with Daphne, Harry! We could have been good together, I would have shown you what love means. I'm sorry you have to live in a loveless marriage. You deserve better.'

Harry's chest tightened, and he bit his lips. He hated to burst Hermione's bubble about Daphne and him, but he had to do it, or she'd never be able to move on. He cast a wary look at the wand that stuck out a few inches from Hermione's pocket. It seemed she'd recovered from her bout of magical incapacity just in time to hex him into the next millennium when he told her. He gulped; oh well, he deserved everything she'd throw at him.

'You're wrong, Hermione.'

A frown appeared on her face. 'What are you talking about?'

'I don't live in a loveless marriage.'

She opened her mouth. 'Harry -'

He held up a hand and interrupted her. 'I know you can't see past the way how Daphne and I got hitched, Hermione, even though I tried to tell you what Daphne means to me when we talked in that classroom the other day. My fault, I didn't know my own feelings back then. Now, however, I am sure. I love Daphne, she means everything to me. I'd be devastated if our friendship is damaged beyond repair by what happened between us, but I'd be downright desperate if I lost Daphne.'

Hermione blanched at his words and turned her head to the side. 'I see.' Her voice sounded choked, as if she had a cold. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and looked back at him. 'Does she love you as much as you love her?'

A broad smile appeared on Harry's face he couldn't contain, no matter how much he tried, and not even for Hermione's sake. 'She does.'

Some colour returned to Hermione's face. 'I'm happy to hear that,' she said, although the moisture gathering in her eyes told another story. She took a shuddering breath. 'Knowing that you're happy makes this much easier on me. Madam Pomfrey put me into contact with a Squib who is a Muggle psychotherapist, you know. I've seen her a couple of times already, right now we're still trying to find out the issues we have to address. You're one of them, I'm afraid.'

The ring around Harry's chest seemed to tighten even more. Merlin, he'd really done a number on her, hadn't he?

Hermione read his thoughts with the practise of long friendship. She gave him a rather watery smile. 'Don't look at me like that, Harry. I'm happy for you, I really am. I was out of my mind at the thought you'd have to live in a loveless relationship for the rest of your life on top of everything you've been through. This will help me move on, I'm sure of that.' She worried her lower lip between her teeth. 'Maybe this is all for the better.'

'What do you mean by that?'

She made a fluttering motion with her hand that included the whole apartment. 'This. You and Daphne, or rather, you being with someone who wasn't part of our group of friends during the last seven years. It gives you a fresh start, a new perspective. Maybe that's what we all need, someone by our side who isn't haunted by the same memories.'

Harry took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. 'I never thought of it that way, although I have to admit it makes sense.'

Again they fell silent. This time it was the comfortable silence between old friends who understand each other without words.

Hermione drained her cup, put it back onto the saucer, and got up. 'I have to go. The Transfiguration essay doesn't write itself.'

Harry also got to his feet, a soft smile playing around his lips. It was good to see some of the old Hermione. He put a tentative hand on her arm as she passed him on her way to the door. 'So, we're good?'

She looked up at him. 'I'll always be your friend, Harry.' She got on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then slipped out of the apartment.

Harry raised his hand and touched the spot where her lips had touched him while he stared at the closed door for a long time after she was gone.

* * *

Daphne returned not even half an hour later.

Harry sat at his desk, the notes for his Transfiguration essay in front of him, and a quill poised over a sheet of parchment. He'd sat like that ever since Hermione had left, their talk playing in his mind over and over again.

'How did it go?' Daphne asked. She put her arms around him and gave him a quick peck on the lips, then slipped into the chair opposite of him and gave him an expectant look.

He startled. 'Uh?'

'With Hermione. Did you two come clear?'

With a sigh, he put the quill down and rubbed his face with both hands. There was no way he'd share the details of his talk to Hermione with his wife. That was something between Hermione and him, about a time when Daphne had not yet entered the picture. However, since the repercussions of his irresponsible choices impacted the relationship between his wife and his best friend until today, Daphne at least needed to know the outcome.

He lowered his hands. 'Yeah; we're fine.'

She gave him another expectant look.

He refused to meet her gaze, picked up the quill, and dipped it into the inkwell. Daphne's eyes still were on him as he wrote the date in the corner of the fresh roll of parchment in front of him. His cheeks burned, and he looked up. 'Look, Daphne, I will not discuss the details of my talk to Hermione with you. It was very private, and also very embarrassing, for both of us.'

'I imagine.' She tilted her head to the side. 'Are you happy with the outcome?'

Harry drew a deep breath. 'Yes, I am.'

Daphne's face brightened. 'That's enough for me.' She reached into the bookshelf next to her desk and drew out her Charms textbook. The next moment she immersed herself into the reading Professor Flitwick had assigned to them.

His gaze lingered on her blonde head bent over the book, and warmth permeated him. What had he done to deserve a women like her? Merlin knew she was much too understanding and willing to please him.

'I love you.'

Daphne looked up from her textbook and gave him a tender smile. 'I love you, too.'

* * *

September came to an end, and with that came the first hearings at court because of the Howlers they'd received during their honeymoon. Harry and Daphne wouldn't have spared another thought on that, the heavy workload of their N.E.W.T. year and their duties as head boy and head girl on top of that left them almost no free time.

Skeeter, however, brought the issue back to their minds with another critical article in _The Daily Prophet_ that posed the hypocritical question if the Chosen One and his bride thought themselves above the magical population if Harry treated the well meant advice he'd got on the occasion of his ill-advised marriage to a dark witch with contempt.

'Well meant advise, my arse,' Ron said, folded the newspaper, and tossed it onto the table. 'As if Harry needed these morons to tell him what he should do.' He gave Harry a broad smile. 'Don't heed them, Daphne is the best thing that happened to you in a long time.'

'I won't,' Harry said, albeit he had a hard time to suppress the laughter in his voice. It seemed Ron had forgotten he'd been one of the morons who had given him unwanted advice when he and Daphne just got married. A low chuckle beside him showed that Daphne hadn't forgotten about the Howler his best friend had sent to him and found Ron's remark as funny as he did, and he didn't dare meet her eyes or he would lose it.

However, Ron's hostility against Daphne was water under the bridge; nowadays they were on a good way to become friends - at least as long as they didn't talk Quidditch.

Harry chuckled under his breath. Her marriage to Gryffindor's star seeker didn't deter Daphne one iota from her support of the Slytherin team, which led to a lot of hilarious duels with words between her and Ron that left the rest of their group in stitches. Even Hermione couldn't help but laugh until the tears ran down her cheeks whenever those two were at it.

She'd also given up on the last remains of her animosity against Daphne, much to the relief of all of their yearmates.

Life was good to him, he had a loving wife, loyal friends, his schooling went smooth, and then there was Quidditch.

He grimaced; too much Quidditch, if he was honest with himself.

Ron was as obsessed with winning the Quidditch cup as Oliver Wood had been in his time. Like Oliver, he scheduled more training sessions as the members of his team could stomach.

Even though Harry was on par with his homework and had excellent grades, he wished Ron would ease up somewhat. Five nights of practise a week didn't sound appealing if you had a beautiful wife you loved more than you were able to tell her waiting for your return. He would have skipped training at least once a week with a flimsy excuse and have spent his time with Daphne, if only she'd let him.

Daphne, however, determined not to be a clingy wife, shooed him onto the pitch whenever Ron scheduled an additional training.

The match Gryffindor against Slytherin opened the Quidditch season at Hogwarts on the second Saturday of October. Harry dressed into his Quidditch gear in their apartment and was about to leave for the traditional breakfast with his team when Daphne's voice held him back.

'Do you like my outfit?'

He looked over his shoulder.

She stood leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom, dressed in tight, faded jeans and a Slytherin green Quidditch jersey with her house emblem on the breast pocket.

'No, not particularly,' Harry scrunched up his nose.

Her eyes laughed at him. 'You haven't seen the best yet, love.' With that, she turned around. On her back were the letters "POTTER" and a bold number seven beneath them in Gryffindor gold.

Harry laughed out loud. 'Minx! Ron will have a coronary when he sees you.'

A devious smile appeared on her face. 'That's the plan.'

'Snake!' Harry shook his head, but laughed nevertheless.

She glided towards him with swaying hips, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply. 'For good luck.' She smiled at him when she released him.

Harry needed a few moments to gather his wits after that heated kiss. He looked down at his wife. 'Are you sure about that, kitty? Some might accuse you of purposefully confounding Gryffindor's star seeker with feminine wiles.'

Her laughter followed him out of the apartment. Still a broad smile on his face, Harry joined the Gryffindor team for breakfast.

Daphne entered the Great Hall not much later, together with the rest of their friends.

Ron looked up from his plate when Ernie, Terry and Neville shouted good luck wishes at him across the tables. He thanked them with a grin. The grin fell from his face, however, when he saw Daphne. He bent towards Harry. 'Mate, did you see what your wife's wearing? A _Slytherin_ jersey.' He gave a visible shudder.

'Well, she is a Slytherin, after all,' Harry said, and bit on the inside of his cheeks as he helped himself to a second serving of scrambled eggs.

'She should have shown her support for her husband,' Ron said, a deep frown on his face.

Harry grinned at his best friend. 'She does, or haven't you seen the back of her jersey yet?' he asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs and motioned with his fork towards the Hufflepuff table that housed their group of friends, as it had become a custom. Daphne sat with her back turned towards them, and the golden letters were hard to miss on the green fabric.

Ron shook his head. 'She might as well wear your Gryffindor jersey,' he said with an audible grumble.

Parvati had listened to their conversation from her place across the table and now gave Harry a wink. 'Oh, I don't think so. The bright Gryffindor scarlet will clash with Daphne's fair complexion. That green is much more suited to her.'

Harry returned Parvati's wink. 'I'm sure you have a point there, Parvati. I've learned the hard way never to question a witch's taste in colour or fashion,' he said with a straight face.

Ron gaped at them, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. 'You're mental, both of you.'

Their breakfast came to an end soon after that. Harry followed his team out of the Great Hall for their warm-up practise. They were just about to leave the castle, when the entrance door opened and two redheads stepped over the threshold.

Ron stopped in his tracks. 'Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?'

Mrs Weasley rushed towards her youngest son and enveloped him in one of her trademark hugs. 'Minerva invited us to sit with her in the teacher's box for your first game as captain. We're so proud of you, Ron!'

Her son escaped her hug rather red in the face, nevertheless with a pleased expression on his face, and turned towards his father.

The next moment Harry found himself crushed to Mrs Weasley's ample bosom, much to the amusement of the rest of their team. Hairs even messier than usual and his glasses askant he still tried to catch his breath when the door opened for a second time and a party of three entered the castle.

The hair of the woman in front was as red as Mrs Weasley's, and they shared the same plump figure. The newcomers stopped and stared at the Weasleys.

Harry's stomach gave a hard lurch, and he bit his lips. How would Mrs Weasley react to that unexpected encounter with her estranged sister?

Mrs Weasley took a few moments longer than him to notice the newcomers. She froze midway in fussing over him and gaped at her sister, an unreadable expression on her face. The next second her face hardened, she harrumphed and turned towards Ginny.

Ron gaped between his mother and Moira, his eyebrows creased into a deep frown. Didn't his best mate know his own aunt? That was a possibility, given that the estrangement between Mrs Weasley and Moira took place before Ron was born.

A shadow flickered across Moira Vaisey's face at the snub of her sister. It was gone the next instant, and she stepped towards Harry to greet him with a hug, a warm smile on her face. He also exchanged handshakes with Fabian and Aaron.

'We're here to watch my little brother's first game as a chaser for Slytherin,' Fabian said, and looked around in the Entrance Hall. 'Where is he?'

'As far away from here as possible.' Harry laughed. 'You should still remember that Slytherins and Gryffindors don't mix well, especially not when the houses are playing against each other.'

'Right.' Fabian joined his laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. 'See you on the pitch, Potter. May the best team win.'

'I never would've thought you'll root for Gryffindor one day,' Harry told him over his shoulder as he followed his team out of the castle, and got an incoherent splutter from Fabian Vaisey in return that was accompanied by the hearty laughter of his parents.

Not even twenty minutes later Harry listened to the stadium speaker announcing the Slytherin team.

'Pucey…! Davies…! Corner…! Warrington…! Montague…! Fawley…! Aaand… Quince!'

Harry frowned. Wasn't Gideon supposed to be one of the chasers? Why wasn't his name called? The stadium speaker left him no time to dwell on that thought.

'I'll give you now the Gryffindor team! Weasley! Peakes! Coote! Weasley! Robins! Creevey! Aaand… POTTER!'

He jumped on his broom and raced out onto the pitch. While Ron and Gervaise Pucey, the new Slytherin team captain and a relative of Adrian Pucey, shook hands, his eyes scanned the crowd.

The Weasleys sat next to Headmistress McGonagall in the teacher's box, their faces beaming with pride of their youngest son. The Vaiseys had sat down in the Slytherin stands, together with Daphne, who blew him a kiss and got mock-booed by the younger members of her house for that. Hermione, Neville and Dean sat in the Gryffindor stands, resplendent in blinding Gryffindor colours. Luna had joined them; her lion-hat had survived the war and let out a deafening roar now and then. The Macmillans and the Boots sat together in the Hufflepuff stands, both couples displaying their support for Gryffindor with bold red and golden scarfs.

Harry grinned to himself. It seemed his wife was in for a lot of teasing from their friends tonight, since he had no intention to lose that game.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and Harry took his place high above the pitch, on the lookout for the Snitch.

Ron's rigid practise over the last couple of weeks paid off, soon the Gryffindor team was in a solid lead, thanks to their magnificent chasers Ginny, Demelza, and Dennis Creevey, who had overcome their problems just in time for the game and played like a well-oiled goal machine. Harry watched the game from above, not yet fully committed to the search for the Snitch. He'd better give their chasers some more time to score, from long experience he knew that every point counted in the end.

He stirred his Firebolt Extreme into another lazy curve. The broom under him gave a sudden hard lurch, and he tightened his grip around the handle. The next moment the broom buckled like a bronco; for a long, agonising second it seemed he'd fall, and he clung to the broomstick with hands and knees.

Nobody noticed what happened to him, all eyes in the stadium were on the Gryffindor chasers, who'd just scored another goal, and the Gryffindors and their supporters screamed in triumph. Sweat pooled on Harry's forehead as he tried to hold himself on his jinxed broom.

How were the chances something like this happened twice to him? A grim smile appeared around his lips. Whoever was behind this was in for a surprise. This time he wasn't a scared to death firstie, he was an almost fully accomplished wizard who'd also come across a couple of useful spells that weren't taught at Hogwarts during his time on the run. Most important, he could do almost every spell without a wand which came in handy during a Quidditch game when the use of wands was prohibited.

His knees and left hand still firmly clutched to the broom, he lifted his right hand a few inches from the handle and cast a silent and wandless spherical shield around himself. It had the added advantage to be invisible, so whoever hexed his broom right now wouldn't know what was going on.

As expected, the buckling stopped in a heartbeat.

The grim smile around Harry's mouth deepened; that confirmed his suspicion about the reason for the broom reacting that strange: someone out there hexed his broom. Now he had to find that son of a bitch who did this to him among the spectators and deal with him. He cancelled the shield, and his broom buckled once again.

Harry's eyes searched the crowd in the Slytherin stands. He didn't need long to find his prey. Nott sat next to his wife, two rows beneath Daphne and the Vaiseys, and did - nothing. Neither had he fixed his eyes on Harry, nor did his lips move.

Harry let out an expletive. Either the bastard was innocent, or he once again had covered his tracks. His eyes scanned the stands. Nobody paid him heed, the attention was still on the chaser duels.

Nobody, except his wife. Her hand clamped to her mouth, her wide eyes stared up at him, full of fear, and she seemed to be about to spring to her feet and yell for help.

He shook his head at her and gave her a hard stare.

She sunk back into her seat and lowered her hand. The fear in her eyes gave way to fury as she glared icy blue daggers up at him.

A mirthless chuckle escaped Harry's mouth. It seemed his Slytherin wife was not at all impressed with his current show of Gryffindor bravery and daring. With no doubt he'd be in for a severe head washing as soon as they were alone. Oh well, he'd deal with that on its own time, right now he had an assassin to catch.

However, no matter how hard his eyes scanned the stands, none of the spectators showed the telltale sign of hexing his broom.

So, the assassin had hidden somewhere.

With another expletive, Harry raised the invisible spherical shield around himself once again with his right hand. So far, nobody down there had noticed what was going on with his broom. He'd better make sure to end the game asap and then find out who had been missing. His assassin most likely was among that group.

The buckling of the broom stopped as soon as the shield was up. Harry looked for the Snitch and found it within an instant, almost right below him, near the ground. He dipped the handle of his broom into a nosedive.

An uproar went through the stadium, overlaid by a shrill, female voice that was still audible through the sound of the wind rushing in his ears.

'HARRY!'

Daphne would kill him for this stunt, so much was sure.

The Snitch was a lazy one, it didn't catch on Harry's intention until it was too late. He straightened his broom in the last possible moment, stretched out his right arm and swept the Snitch from the spot where it was hovering close to the ground.

He held his fist with the Snitch up in triumph, brought his broom to a halt and jumped off. The next second Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and his team mates descended on him for a first impromptu celebration on the pitch.

The Slytherin team joined them and offered their congratulations. This was new, apparently their new captain was determined to show that even Slytherins were capable of sportsmanship.

Teachers, friends and family members who'd come to watch the game followed soon after.

Daphne was the first to reach him. She threw her arms around his neck and held him in a tight hug that almost suffocated him. 'You damned idiot,' she said into his ear. Her voice was barely audible over the cacophony of voices and laughter that surrounded them. 'I thought you would fall to your death when your broom buckled. And when you dipped into that nosedive, I thought you'd lost control.' She leaned back and gave his chest a hard slap with her hand. 'Do you have an idea what you did to me?' Her voice sounded hoarse, and even though she glared at him, her eyes shone much too bright.

He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss into her palm. 'I'm sorry, love. We'll talk about this later, all right?'

She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, yet didn't let go of him.

The rest of their group of friends gathered around them, and Harry accepted the hugs of congratulation from Hermione, Luna, Morag and Lisa, and the slaps on the shoulders from Neville, Dean, Terry and Ernie. His mouth laughed and gave the appropriate responses, while his eyes searched for Headmistress McGonagall.

He found her in conversation with Ron, and he prised himself from his friends and walked towards her, Daphne still on his arm.

'Great catch, mate!' Ron slapped his shoulder. 'The Slytherin seeker didn't know what hit him.'

'Congratulations, Mr Potter. Although I hope next time, you'll catch the Snitch without giving me a heart attack,' Headmistress McGonagall said and shook his hand.

'I hear you there,' Daphne muttered under her breath, which got her a sympathetic smile from the stern headmistress.

Ron was called away, and Harry used the opportunity. 'There's something you need to know, Headmistress,' he said and cast a wandless Privacy Ward around them. With a few words he told her what had happened to his broom.

Professor McGonagall blanched and gripped with her hand at her chest. 'Dear me! I shudder to think what is next! I'll immediately inform the Aurors! They will want to interrogate the student body.'

She turned, as if to walk away and make good on her words, but Harry held her back. 'I don't think it's necessary to have another interrogation that soon after the last… incident. That will draw too much attention towards me, I'm afraid. I know that eye contact is essential to make that curse work, however, I didn't see the perpetrator among the spectators, which makes me think he hid under the stands.'

'Or she,' Daphne said.

Harry gave her a brief sidewards smile. 'Good point, love.' He turned back to Headmistress McGonagall. 'Maybe you can talk to the Heads of Houses who has been missing during the game. We can give that list to the Aurors, together with my report of what happened today. They can check this list against the list of suspects I gave them the other day and narrow it down to a few names and go on from there.'

The headmistress considered his words, then nodded. 'You made some good points, Harry. I'll talk to the heads immediately and get back to you. Right now, I hope this new incident doesn't keep you from enjoying your victory. It looks as if your classmates are planning something.' She pointed towards Terry Boot who gesticulated with his arms and shouted something.

Harry gave a somewhat strained laugh and dropped the Privacy Ward.

'Party in the seventh year common room,' Terry shouted over the hubbub.

'That's my cue.' Harry bent down to his wife and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. 'I'll pop into our apartment for a quick shower and change and meet you in the common room, all right?'

'I'm coming with you,' Daphne said. Her tone brooked no argument.

They didn't talk while they walked to their apartment, together with a throng of chatting students who made their way back into the castle. Back in their apartment, Harry hurried to get ready. When he walked out of their bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower and sticking out into all directions, Daphne sat in the chair next to the window, Miss Bennet on her lap. She looked out onto the grounds, a pensive expression on her face.

He slid on the armrest beside her, put his arms around her and kissed her. 'I'm proud of you, love.'

'Huh?' She looked up at him. 'Why's that?'

'You were the only one who noticed that something was amiss with my broom. It looked to me as if you would call for help, but when I warned you not to, you gave in without a fuss, although you were clearly not happy with my decision. I'm sure it went against all your instincts, and yet you let me handle the situation as I saw fit. I'm sorry for having put you through the wringer, love.'

She sighed and leaned her head against him. 'You're right, but I also promised you to hold it together until the worst was over, remember? I had no idea I had to act on my promise that soon. Serves me right for falling in love with a Gryffindork.'

He snorted at that. 'Yeah, who would've thought that Slytherin's Ice Queen had such a poor taste in men.'

That earned him a small slap on the wrist. 'Stop it, Potter. I happen to think my taste in men is excellent.'

They laughed together; even so, there was still a small trace of strain in her laughter that told him she was not yet over the fright he'd given her.

* * *

The party was already in full swing when they entered the common room. Loud music blared from the wireless in the corner, and their classmates had shoved the furniture in front of one of the fireplaces away for a makeshift dance floor. It was crowded, as was the whole room. Not only their classmates were celebrating, all upperclassmen of Gryffindor house and Slytherin house seemed to have found their way up to the seventh year's common room, and there were also a lot of blue trimmed and yellow trimmed robes in the crowd of partying students.

Harry scanned the room for familiar faces. The Boots and the Macmillans were on the dance floor, and so were Hermione and Ron. Dean and Luna had abandoned their group once again in favour of the company of Parvati, Seamus and Ginny. As usual nowadays, Ginny and Seamus were joined at the lips, while the other three did their best to ignore them. Neville and the other Hufflepuffs were sitting in one of the remaining groups of sofas and chairs and had a lively conversation going on by the looks of it. Justin had Susan on his lap; when he felt Harry's eyes on himself he looked up and gave him a small wave. The remaining Ravenclaws of their year stood near the makeshift bar, together with the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Everyone in their year was accounted for, except for the Notts. However, they never mingled with their classmates, and they weren't the ones who gave him headaches, either.

'Where is Tori and Gideon?'

Daphne gave him a sidewards glance. Her eyes were guarded. 'The Slytherin rumour mill says they had another spat right before the game. Gideon didn't show up, and Gervaise is not happy with him right now. Tori hides Merlin knows where since then and is probably bawling her eyes out. At least that how it seems. It might as well be a ruse.'

His head jerked around to her. 'Daph, you don't think -'

Her eyes flashed at him. 'Stop it, Harry. Everyone who wasn't at the game is a suspect, my little sister and her boyfriend included.' She pushed a strand of hair out of her face, and her shoulders slumped a little. 'However, there's no use in speculating right now. We'll know more when Headmistress McGonagall gets back at you with the list of students who weren't at the game.'

There was nothing to add. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the group around Neville.

* * *

McGonagall got back to him the next day. They had just returned from a Sunday afternoon visit with Andromeda and Teddy when a house elf clad in a tea towel with the Hogwarts crest on it popped up in their living room and handed a piece of parchment to Harry.

Harry thanked him, waited until the elf disappeared, and sat down on the sofa. Daphne snuggled up to him and read the list together with him.

Less than ten students had missed the game, Tori, Gideon, and a handful of fifth and fourth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Almost none of them had a dead cert alibi, except for Tori. She'd been at the library, together with Pansy Parkinson, according to Madam Pince.

Daphne let out a deep breath. 'Thank Merlin.'

Harry gave her a short hug. 'Yeah, although that doesn't make things better. You know that still leaves Gideon as one of our suspects.'

His wife bit her lips. 'I know. Tori will be devastated if it turns out to be him who -'

'There's still the possibility it was someone from outside of the school we haven't thought of yet.'

She gave him a look that clearly conveyed her disbelief. He sighed and once more concentrated on the list. Something about it was strange…

Then it hit him. 'What was Pansy doing in the library? She was at the game, together with Nott.'

Daphne jumped. 'You're right. She clung to him in the most disgusting way for the whole game. I think she did it to show off her conquest to make me jealous, you know. If ever!'

Harry leaned back into the sofa. 'So, someone used Polyjuice, either to impersonate the Pansy at the game, or the Pansy in the library. That supports our theory that Nott is behind everything, doesn't it? Pansy is his wife, after all. Do you think she supports his attempts of murder?'

'I hate to think that of her. Pansy's a bitch, but she was also my roommate. I don't want to think she's capable to aid the cold blooded murder of my husband.'

'I know, love.' He gave her another hug. 'However, as you said yesterday, everyone who wasn't at the game is a possible suspect. I guess the same is true for one Pansy too many.'

She worried her lower lip once more between her teeth. 'Let me talk to Tori first. Maybe she can shed some light on Pansy's behaviour.'

* * *

Daphne made good on her word. Instead of having breakfast with Harry on Monday morning, she went to the Great Hall to talk to Tori. During Transfiguration she shared what Tori had told her under a Privacy Ward Harry had cast while they practised advanced inanimate object to animal Transfiguration.

'Tori said she wasn't in the mood for Pansy's company yesterday, but Pansy wouldn't leave her alone.' Daphne flicked her wand at the desk they shared in the classroom. The desk transformed into a rosy pig that sniffed at Harry's backpack for something edible. Daphne regarded the pig with a frown on her face. 'It looks somehow wrong, doesn't it?'

Harry grinned and pointed towards the legs of the animal. It still sported the wooden legs of the desk.

Daphne huffed, directed her wand at the pig, and cancelled her spell. 'Your turn,' she said to Harry with a motion of her hand.

Harry gave a lazy flick of his wand, and the next moment a perfect, rosy pig galloped through the classroom.

'How did you do that?' Daphne gaped after the pig.

'Talent. What else did Tori tell you?'

That got him a snort from his wife. 'Pansy's behaviour was somehow weird. Tori said she looked as if she'd been on an addictive potion, with her eyes glazed over, and somehow out of it.'

A jolt went through Harry, and his jaw tightened. 'There's another explanation than potions for that kind of behaviour,' he said and cancelled the charm on his pig. The animal transformed back into a desk in mid-gallop, and the desk came to a slithering halt in the middle of the classroom, hitting Ron in the back and almost knocking him off his feet.

He turned to Harry, face red. 'Oi, mate, watch it!'

Neither Harry, nor Daphne paid him any heed. Daphne's face had lost all colour, and she stared at her husband with wide eyes. 'The Imperius Curse.' Her voice was almost inaudible.

Harry's mouth flattened into a grim line. 'Yeah, and if the Pansy in the library was the real article, she's as much Nott's victim as Richard Sprout was.'

* * *

There wasn't much else to do for Harry than writing a detailed report about the incident with his broom to Head Auror Robards that included Headmistress McGonagall's findings about the whereabouts of the students who didn't watch the game and hope the cross-referencing of that list with the list he gave him after the first attack would limit the suspects and exonerate Gideon. He also included a question after the results of the analyses of the blood samples the Aurors had taken.

Head Auror Robards answered almost immediately.

'He thanks us for informing him, reminds us we should leave the investigations to those who know how to do it, and is sorry to inform us that the results of the blood analyses will not be available before mid-November. Apparently, the analyses is complicated, and the Department of Mysteries is overwhelmed with the number of blood samples the Aurors sent them.'

Harry folded the letter and put it beside his plate. He and Daphne had skipped lunch in the Great Hall in favour for a private lunch in their apartment because they didn't want to wait until after classes to check their Banishing Box for a reply from Head Auror Robards.

Daphne scrunched up her nose. 'That's rich, isn't it?. The reminder not to stick your nose into that nasty business, I mean. After all, he had the gall to ask you to make yourself a target for the assassin.'

'Which I denied,' Harry said. 'Maybe he thinks I've lost the nerve to go after dark wizards. He wouldn't be so far off, you know.'

His wife gave him a blinding smile across the table. 'I'm happy to hear that.'

* * *

The remainder of October passed without another incident, and Halloween was upon them before they realised it.

This year Halloween was on a Saturday, and Headmistress McGonagall had scheduled a Hogsmeade weekend for that day. Harry and Daphne, along with the seventh year prefects, had to spend the day in the village to make sure the younger students behaved.

The young couple ambled down one side of Hogsmeade's main street. It was rather cold, the air smelled of snow, and despite the strong Warming Charms he'd cast on her, Daphne clung to Harry as closely as possible, while still complaining about the cold. Not that he minded.

However, they both were glad when they could return to the castle and warm up.

Harry wasn't looking forward to the feast. Halloween always had been a horrible day for him. As a young child he had to watch Dudley going out trick-or-treating, and feasting on his bounty later at night, while he was confined to his cupboard under the stairs. Later, at Hogwarts, nobody kept him from celebrating. However, the knowledge that this day also was the day that marked the deaths of his parents took the fun out of Halloween for him once and for all.

'You are awfully quiet,' his wife said as they got ready for the feast.

He gave her a thin smile. 'Halloween has always been tough.'

'I imagine.' She bit her lip. 'Why don't we stay in our apartment? I'm not looking forward to spending the night at the Slytherin table in Nott's and Pansy's company, either.'

He startled. 'Isn't attendance to the feast mandatory?'

Daphne shook her head. 'Not on the high feasts of the year, Yule, Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha, Lughnasadh, Mabon and Samhain.'

'Huh?'

'I forgot nobody ever taught you the old ways,' she said with a sigh. 'Many students still adhere to them, albeit Hogwarts under Dumbledore promoted the Muggle versions of the traditional holidays: Christmas instead of Yule, Easter instead of Ostara, and Halloween instead of Samhain. Yet, Headmaster Dumbledore couldn't forbid the students to celebrate the holidays in the traditional way, so, each year a few of us skipped the Halloween feast in order for our own celebrations.'

That caught his interest. 'Tell me more about that. How do you celebrate Hal…, no, Samhain?' He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave her an expectant look.

She sat down beside him and took his hand. 'Well, Samhain is one of the two spirit-nights each year, the other being Beltane. It is a magical interval when the mundane laws of time and space are temporarily suspended, and the Thin Veil between the worlds is lifted. Communicating with ancestors and departed loved ones is easy at this time, for they journey through this world on their way to the Summerlands.'

'The Summerlands?'

'Nirwana, paradise… take your pick, there are as many names for the afterlife as there are cultures in this world. We'd decorate a small altar and offer a prayer for our loved ones who already went on. We'd put a candle in the window so their spirits won't get lost in this darkest of nights and have a quiet meal of seasonal vegetables and pork or poultry. Sometimes, if the next day was a Sunday, we were allowed to visit the graves of our ancestors.'

Harry let out a deep sigh. 'That sounds lovely, much better than the boisterous feast in the Great Hall.'

She pressed his hand. 'Why don't we stay here and have our own celebration?'

His eyes went wide. 'Can we? What will McGonagall say? After all, we're head boy and head girl.'

Daphne ran her hand through his unruly locks. 'I'll explain to her tomorrow, I'm sure she'll understand you need a quiet time of remembrance after all the losses you've suffered and everything that happened during the war.' She got up and held out her hand to pull him up. 'Come on, love.'

He followed her into the living room. Together, they decorated a small altar with golden candles and bright orange pumpkins as symbols for Samhain. Daphne taught him a prayer she had learned from her grandmother to remember the deceased. After their small celebration they sat cross legged in front of the altar for a long time, watched the candles burning down, and talked in hushed voices about those they had lost.

Daphne remembered Tracey and her parents, and he opened to her about the deep hole the early loss of his parents seemed to have left in his soul, and the agony that had followed the deaths of Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore and Remus and Tonks.

It was cathartic to let it all out, and Harry didn't realise he was crying until a fat tear splashed on his hand. Silence descended upon them, and they held each other while they cried for those they had lost.

Harry was the first one to raise his head. 'There is more, it's about time you know everything about me, love.'

Daphne gave him a long, level look out of red-rimmed eyes. 'If you are ready for that, Harry.'

He took a deep breath. 'I am,' he said in a firm voice, got up to his feet and held his hand out to pull her up. 'Come on, love, I need a more comfortable place for what's coming than the floor.'

She put her hand in his and followed him to the sofa. Harry sat down and pulled her in his arms. Halting at first, then with more confidence with each word he told her what had happened on that fateful night seventeen years ago, and how it tied him to Tom Riddle until he died.

Daphne listened without interrupting him, albeit her cheeks became paler with each word. When he came to the part where he surrendered himself to Voldemort, it had a decidedly greenish hue. She pressed her hand in front of her mouth and gave a small whimper, while her eyes stared at him, wide with terror.

He pulled her closer and dropped a kiss in her hair. 'I'm still here, love, it all worked out in the end, and that's what counts.'

'Yeah, but at what price? You've been through so much, love, you've been denied the basic things each child should have, a secure home and the love of its parents, just to be sent to that monster like a sacrificial lamb.' Her eyes narrowed, and some colour returned into her cheeks. 'Too bad Dumbledore is dead, I'd like to give him a piece of my mind about how he treated you.'

Despite their somber mood a small chuckle escaped him. 'Well, according to you tonight your chances aren't bad, since the veil to the afterlife is at its thinnest.'

'Prat.' She gave him a small slap on the wrist, then cuddled deeper into his arms.

A huge weight fell from his heart like an avalanche. He'd opened to Daphne, and she hadn't condemned him. Quite the contrary, she'd been angry at Dumbledore on his behalf.

He raised her chin with one hand. 'I love you, Daphne Potter, and I'll be forever thankful for the fortuity that brought you into my life.'

 _t.b.c._


End file.
